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~*^tLee/rL  iya 

md-  -trie,  '-is idee,  &f  (yM/nuf&rla,na . 

Caroline  the  Illustrious 

Queen-Consort  of  George  II.  and 
sometime  Queen-Regent 

A  Study    of  her    Life  and   Time 

W.    H.    WILKINS,    M.A.,    F.S.A. 



VOL.  II. 

LONGMANS,     GREEN,     AND     CO. 






















CAROLINE  AND  THE  CHURCH        .        ." 225 

THE  MARRIAGE  OF  THE  PRINCESS  ROYAL  .        .        .        .  .     249 










QUEEN  CAROLINE  AND  THE  DUKE  OF  CUMBERLAND        .        .  Frontispiece 

KING  GEORGE  II.     From  the  painting  by  John  Shackleton 

in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery to  face  page    14 


CAROLINE „     34 

SIR  ROBERT  WALPOLE.     From  the  painting  by  J.  B.  Van 

Loo  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery  ....  „  46 






FRANCIS  EDWARD  STUART).  From  the  painting  in 
the  National  Portrait  Gallery „  146 


JOHN,  LORD  HERVEY        .......  „  178 


painting  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery   ...  „  194 


painting  by  Mrs.  Hoadley  in  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery .  „  238 


ANNE,  PRINCESS  ROYAL,  AND  THE  PRINCE  OF  ORANGE,     to  face  page  256 


MARRIAGE „  284 

THE  OLD  TOLBOOTH,  EDINBURGH,  TEMP.  1736.      From 

an  old  print „  308 


GEORGE  II.) „  328 


II.) 348 


i?37 „  364 



VOL.  II. 



THE  news  of  George  the  First's  death  reached 
England  four  days  after  he  had  breathed  his  last  at 
Osnabriick.  A  messenger,  bearing  sealed  des- 
patches from  Lord  Townshend,  arrived  at  Sir 
Robert  Walpole's  house  in  Arlington  Street  at  noon 
on  Wednesday,  June  i4th.  He  was  told  that  the 
Prime  Minister  was  at  Chelsea,  and  he  at  once 
repaired  thither.  He  found  the  great  man  at  dinner. 
Walpole  was  thunderstruck  at  the  news,  for  the  old 
King  was  of  so  strong  a  constitution  that,  despite 
his  occasional  fainting  fits,  every  one  expected  him 
to  live  to  a  green  old  age,  as  his  mother  had  done 
before  him.  His  sudden  death,  too,  might  mean  the 
end  of  the  Prime  Minister's  political  career.  But 
there  was  no  time  for  vain  regrets — the  King  was 
dead,  long  live  the  King.  So  ordering  his  horse 
to  be  saddled,  Walpole  rode  off  at  full  speed  to 
Richmond,  where  George  Augustus  then  was,  to 
announce  the  tidings  and  pay  homage  to  his  new- 
Sovereign.  The  day  was  hot,  and  so  furiously  did 
he  ride  that  he  killed,  his  son  tells  us,  two  horses 


between  Chelsea  and  Richmond ;  but  then  his  son 
was  given  to  exaggeration. 

Walpole  arrived  at  Richmond  Lodge  about 
three  o'clock,  and  requested  to  be  shown  at  once 
into  the  royal  presence.  The  Duchess  of  Dorset, 
who  was  in  waiting,  said  it  was  impossible,  as  the 
Prince  had  undressed  and  gone  to  bed  after  dinner 
according  to  his  custom,  and  the  Princess  was  rest- 
ing also,  and  no  one  dared  disturb  them.  But 
Walpole  explained  that  his  business  brooked  of  no 
delay,  and  the  duchess  went  to  wake  them.  The 
King  (as  he  must  now  be  called),  very  irate  at 
being  disturbed,  came  into  the  ante-chamber  in  haste 
with  his  breeches  in  his  hand — he  was  one  of  those 
princes  who  are  fated  to  appear  ridiculous  even  at 
the  greatest  moments  of  their  lives.  Walpole  fell 
on  one  knee,  kissed  the  hand  holding  the  breeches, 
and  told  his  Majesty  that  his  royal  sire  was  dead, 
and  he  was  King  of  England.  "  Dat  is  von  big 
lie,"  shouted  King  George  the  Second,  as  he  had 
shouted  at  the  Duke  of  Roxburgh  on  a  memorable 
occasion  some  time  before.  But  Walpole,  unlike 
the  duke,  showed  no  resentment  at  being  given 
the  lie,  and  for  all  answer  produced  Townshend's 
despatch,  which  gave  particulars  of  the  late  King's 
death.  George  snatched  the  letter  from  him  and 
eagerly  conned  it ;  but  his  face  did  not  relax  as  he 
read,  nor  did  his  manner  unbend  towards  the  Prime 
Minister.  Walpole  uttered  some  words  of  formal 
condolence,  but  they  were  ungraciously  ignored. 
After  an  awkward  pause,  he  asked  the  King  his 


pleasure  with  regard  to  the  Accession  Council,  the 
Proclamation,  and  other  matters  necessary  to  be  done 
at  once,  naturally  expecting  that  he  should  be  com- 
manded to  attend  to  them.  "  Go  to  Chiswick,  and 
take  your  directions  from  Sir  Spencer  Compton," 
said  the  King  curtly,  and  turned  his  back  as  an 
intimation  that  the  interview  was  at  an  end.  George 
the  Second  then  went  to  tell  the  great  news  to  his 
Queen,  and  the  crestfallen  Minister  withdrew,  to  go, 
as  ordered,  to  Compton. 

Walpole's  reflections  on  his  ride  to  Chiswick 
must  have  been  bitter  indeed.  Well  might  he  ex- 
claim, as  his  fallen  rival,  Bolingbroke,  had  done 
under  a  similar  reverse  :  "  What  a  world  is  this  and 
how  does  Fortune  banter  us ! "  For  years  he  had 
been  Prime  Minister  with  almost  absolute  power, 
enjoying  to  the  full  the  confidence  of  his  Sovereign. 
Suddenly  he  was  stripped  of  every  shred  of  authority, 
and  dismissed  (for  the  King's  bidding  him  go  to 
Compton  was  tantamount  to  a  dismissal)  without 
the  slightest  consideration,  like  a  dishonest  servant. 
Walpole  knew  that  George  the  Second  owed  him 
a  grudge  for  not  having  kept  his  promises  at  the 
reconciliation,  and  disliked  him,  as  he  disliked  all 
who  enjoyed  the,  late  King's  favour.  But  the 
Prime  Minister  hoped  that  time  and  Caroline's  in- 
fluence would  put  things  right.  He  did  not  know 
that  Pulteney  had  repeated  certain  remarks  he  had 
incautiously  made  soon  after  the  reconciliation,  when 
Pulteney  asked  him  what  terms  he  had  got  for 
the  Prince  of  Wales.  Walpole  answered  with  a 


sneer:  "Why,  he  is  to  go  to  court  again,  and  he 
will  have  his  drums  and  guards,  and  such  fine 
things ".  "  But,"  said  Pulteney,  "  is  the  Prince  to 
be  left  Regent  as  he  was  when  the  King  first  left 
England  ?  "  Walpole  replied,  "  Certainly  not,  he 
does  not  deserve  it,  we  have  done  more  than 
enough  for  him  ;  and  if  it  were  to  be  done  again, 
we  would  not  do  so  much  ". 1  George  the  Second's 
little  mind  resented  slights  of  this  kind  more  than 
greater  wrongs,  and  he  now  took  his  revenge. 

Sir  Spencer  Compton,  to  whom  the  disconcerted 
Minister  sadly  made  his  way,  had  been  Speaker 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  Treasurer  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales's  Household,  and  Paymaster  of  the  Army. 
Compton  was  much  more  of  a  courtier  than  a 
politician.  He  was  a  man  of  the  mediocre  order 
of  ability  that  often  makes  a  good  and  safe  official ; 
he  knew  all  about  forms,  procedure,  and  precedents, 
but  he  was  not  a  leader  of  men,  and  he  was  quite 
unprepared  for,  and  quite  unequal  to,  the  great 
position  now  thrust  upon  him.  Walpole,  who  knew 
the  man  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  felt  towards 
Compton  no  personal  resentment.  He  acquainted 
him  briefly  with  George  the  First's  death,  gave 
him  the  new  King's  commands,  and  added  on  his 
own  behalf:  "Everything  is  in  your  hands;  I 
neither  could  shake  your  power  if  I  would,  nor 
would  if  I  could.  My  time  has  been,  yours  is 
beginning ;  but  as  we  all  must  depend  in  some 
degree  upon  our  successors,  and  as  it  is  always 

1  Pulteney's  Answer  to  an  infamous  Libel. 


prudent  for  these  successors,  by  way  of  example,  to 
have  some  regard  for  their  predecessors,  that  the 
measure  they  mete  out  may  be  measured  to  them 
again — for  this  reason  I  put  myself  under  your  pro- 
tection, and  for  this  reason  I  expect  you  will  give  it. 
I  desire  no  share  of  power  or  business,  one  of  your 
white  sticks,1  or  any  employment  of  that  sort,  is  all 
I  ask,  as  a  mark  from  the  Crown  that  I  am  not 
abandoned  to  the  enmity  of  those  whose  envy  is  the 
only  source  of  their  hate."2 

Though  Compton  was  astonished  at  the  news, 
he  did  not  conceal  his  delight  at  the  unexpected 
honour  that  had  fallen  upon  him.  Walpole's  speech 
flattered  his  vanity,  and  perhaps  also  touched  his 
heart ;  he  grandiloquently  promised  him  his  pro- 
tection, and,  thinking  he  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  fallen  statesman,  took  him  into  his  confidence 
and  consulted  him  as  to  how  he  should  proceed. 
The  two  Ministers  then  drove  together  to  Devonshire 
House  to  see  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  President  of 
the  Council,  and  arrange  for  an  immediate  meeting 
of  the  Privy  Council.  At  forms  Compton  was  an 
adept,  but  when  it  came  to  the  speech  that  had  to 
be  put  into  the  King's  mouth  he  was  nonplussed. 
He  took  Walpole  aside,  and  asked  him,  as  he 
had  composed  all  the  speeches  of  the  late  King, 
to  compose  this  one  also.  Walpole  pretended  to 
demur,  but  as  Compton  persisted,  he  consented  and 
withdrew  to  a  private  room  in  Devonshire  House 

1  The  officers  of  the  Royal  Household  carried  white  wands. 

2  Hervey's  Memoirs. 


to  draft  the  speech,  while  Compton  set  off  to  do 
homage  to  the  King  and  Queen.  Walpole  must 
have  chuckled  over  his  task,  for  if  the  precedent- 
loving  Compton  had  only  consulted  the  back  folios 
of  the  Gazette  he  would  have  found  plenty  of  models 
for  the  King's  speech  ;  but  he  was  so  fussed  with 
forms  and  ceremonies,  and  so  elated  with  the  sense 
of  his  new  importance,  that  he  was  incapable  of 
thinking  coherently. 

The  King  and  Queen  had  driven  up  from  Rich- 
mond in  the  afternoon,  and  were  now  arrived  at 
Leicester  House.  The  great  news  had  spread 
abroad,  and  all  London  was  flocking  to  Leicester 
Fields.  When  Compton  arrived  there,  the  square 
was  so  thronged  with  peopl*  who  had  assembled  to 
cheer  their  Majesties  that  the  coaches  and  chairs 
of  the  mighty,  who  were  hurrying  to  pay  their  court, 
could  scarce  make  way  through  the  crowd.  Inside 
Leicester  House  the  walls  were  already  hung  with 
purple  and  black,  and  the  Queen  appeared  in  "  black 
bombazine " ;  but  these  were  the  only  signs  of 
mourning,  all  else  wore  an  aspect  of  rejoicing  and 
congratulation.  The  new  King  and  Queen  held  a 
court,  the  rooms  were  thronged  with  the  great 
nobility  and  high  officials,  and  persons  of  divers 
parties  and  creeds  struggled  up  and  down  the  stairs, 
all  anxious  to  kiss  their  Majesties'  hands,  and  to 
profess  their  loyalty  and  devotion.  The  Queen, 
who  had  a  keen  sense  of  irony,  must  have  smiled 
to  herself  when  she  contrasted  the  crowded  rooms 
before  her  with  the  thinly  attended  receptions  which 


Leicester  House  (except  on  great  occasions  such  as 
birthdays)  had  witnessed  during  the  past  few  years. 

This  was  the  proudest  hour  of  Caroline's  life. 
She  had  reached  the  summit  of  her  ambition,  she 
had  become  Queen.  But  the  mere  show  of 
sovereignty  did  not  content  her,  she  was  deter- 
mined to  be  the  power  behind  the  throne  greater 
than  the  throne.  It  was  not  enough  for  her  that 
she  had  become  Queen  through  her  husband,  she 
was  determined  to  rule  through  him  also.  Did  this 
inscrutable  woman,  we  wonder,  in  this  her  hour  of 
glory,  recall  the  parallel  Leibniz  had  drawn  long  be- 
fore, when  the  prospects  of  the  House  of  Hanover 
were  darkest,  between  her  and  England's  greatest 
Queen,  Elizabeth  ?  May-be,  for,  like  Elizabeth,  Caro- 
line determined  to  have  her  Cecil.  She  knew  there 
was  but  one  man  in  England  capable  of  maintaining 
the  Hanoverian  dynasty  upon  the  throne  in  peace, 
and  that  one  was  Walpole.  She  had  been  dismayed 
when  the  King  told  her  that  he  had  sent  for  Comp- 
ton,  for  she  knew  Compton's  weakness.  But,  like 
a  wise  woman  she  did  not  attempt  to  thwart  her 
husband  in  the  first  heat  of  his  resentment  against 
his  father's  favourite  minister,  who  had  been,  willingly 
or  unwillingly,  the  late  King's  mouthpiece  for  many 
slights  to  him,  and  perhaps,  too,  she  thought  it  would 
be  good  for  Walpole  to  be  taught  a  lesson.  She 
bided  her  time. 

Compton  at  once  had  audience  of  the  King. 
When  he  came  out  from  the  royal  closet  he 
walked  across  the  courtyard  to  his  coach  between 


lines  of  bowing  and  fawning  courtiers,  all  anxious 
to  bask  in  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  They  knew 
full  well  what  this  audience  portended.  Compton, 
greatly  flattered  by  this  homage,  drove  back  to 
Devonshire  House,  where  he  found  that  the  man 
whom  he  had  superseded  had  finished  the  King's 
speech.  Compton  was  graciously  pleased  to  approve 
the  draft ;  he  took  it  and  copied  it  in  his  own  hand- 
writing. He  then  again  repaired  to  Leicester  House 
to  present  it  to  the  King.  On  this  occasion  he  was 
accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Devonshire  and  other 
privy  councillors,  including  Walpole,  who  were  to 
be  present  at  the  Accession  Council.  George  the 
Second  liked  the  speech  well  enough,  but  found 
fault  with  one  paragraph  and  desired  that  it  should 
be  altered.  Compton  wished  it  to  stand,  for  he  knew 
not  how  to  change  it,  but  the  King  was  obdurate 
and  very  testy  at  being  opposed.  Compton  was 
then  so  incredibly  foolish,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
his  own  interest,  as  to  ask  Walpole  to  go  to  the 
King's  closet  and  see  what  he  could  do.  Walpole 
went,  nothing  loath,  and  improved  the  occasion  by 
declaring  to  the  King  his  willingness  to  serve  him 
either  in  or  out  of  office.  This  was  the  Queen's 
opportunity.  According  to  some,  it  was  she  who 
suggested  that  Walpole  should  be  sent  for ;  she 
certainly  suggested  to  the  King  that  perhaps  he 
had  been  a  little  hasty,  and  it  would  be  bad  for  his 
affairs  to  employ  a  man  like  Compton,  who  had 
already  shown  himself  inferior  in  ability  to  the 
Minister  whom  he  was  to  succeed.  But  Caroline 


could  do  no  more  at  this  juncture  than  suggest, 
and  leave  the  leaven  to  work  in  the  King's  mind. 
George  the  Second  held  his  Accession  Council 
that  same  night  at  Leicester  House.  He  read  his 
speech  to  his  faithful  councillors  in  which  he  lamented 
"the  sudden  and  unexpected  death  of  the  King,  my 
dearest  father,"  he  spoke  of  his  "  love  and  affection  " 
for  England  and  declared  his  intention  of  preserv- 
ing the  laws  and  liberties  of  the  kingdom,  and 
upholding  the  constitution  as  it  stood.  If  he  felt 
any  relenting  towards  Walpole  it  was  not  visible  in 
his  manner.  Compton  took  the  first  place,  and  the 
man  who  had  hitherto  dominated  the  councils  of  the 
King,  and  was  still  nominally  Prime  Minister,  was 
completely  ignored  by  the  new  Sovereign.  The 
office-seekers  were  not  slow  to  follow  the  lead.  For 
the  next  few  days  Leicester  House  was  crowded 
every  day,  but  whenever  Walpole  appeared  the 
courtiers  shrank  away  from  him  as  though  he  had 
the  plague.  Walpole  himself,  though  he  knew  the 
utter  weakness  of  Compton,  had  no  hope  of  being 
continued  in  office,  and  hourly  expected  to  receive 
the  King's  command  to  give  up  the  seals.  "  I  shall 
certainly  go  out,"  he  said  to  his  friend  Sir  William 
Yonge,  after  the  Council,  "  but  let  me  advise  you 
not  to  go  into  violent  opposition,  as  we  must  soon 
come  in  again."  Yonge  quickly  had  experience  of 
going  out,  for  he  was  dismissed  the  next  day,  the 
King  had  always  hated  him  and  called  him  "  stink- 
ing Yonge  "  ;  Lord  Malpas,  Walpole's  son-in-law, 
was  dismissed  also.  But  the  public  announcement 


of  the  Prime  Minister's  dismissal  tarried  unaccount- 
ably— unaccountably  that  is  to  those  who  were 
not  behind  the  scenes. 

The  Queen's  influence  was  now  beginning  to 
tell.  At  first  she  persuaded  the  King  to  delay,  for 
she  knew  that  if  he  delayed  he  would  reflect,  and 
if  he  reflected  he  would  change  his  mind.  She 
reminded  him  of  the  trouble  a  change  of  Ministers 
would  involve  before  he  was  comfortably  seated  on 
the  throne,  and  she  knew  the  King  hated  trouble. 
The  King  objected  to  Walpole's  notorious  greed 
for  gold,  but  the  Queen  met  this  by  saying  that, 
with  so  many  opportunities  of  amassing  wealth,  he 
must  by  this  time  have  become  so  rich  that  he 
would  want  no  more,  and  this,  in  a  lesser  degree, 
applied  to  his  colleagues.  "  The  old  leeches,"  she 
cynically  added,  "will  not  be  so  hungry  as  the  new 
ones,  and  will  know  their  business  much  better." 
The  critical  situation  of  foreign  affairs  was  another 
of  the  arguments  used  by  the  Queen  in  favour  of 
Walpole,  for  no  one  had  the  same  grasp  of  the 
tangled  skeins  of  foreign  policy  as  he.  The 
European  courts,  which  did  not  understand  the 
working  of  the  English  Constitution,  might  be- 
come alarmed  at  a  sudden  change  of  Ministry 
and  imagine  that  it  foretold  a  change  in  England's 
foreign  policy,  thus  creating  a  general  distrust, 
which  would  be  dangerous  to  the  reigning  dynasty, 
more  especially  as  there  was  always  the  fear  of 
secret  negotiations  going  on  between  James  and 
the  Roman  Catholic  courts  of  Europe.  This  was 


particularly  true  of  France,  with  whom  it  was  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  maintain  good  relations  at  the 
present  juncture.  Whilst  Caroline  was  thus  argu- 
ing, as  luck  would  have  it,  Horace  Walpole,  the 
Prime  Minister's  brother,  who  was  ambassador  to 
France,  arrived  in  England  with  a  letter  which  his 
diplomacy  had  obtained  from  Cardinal  de  Fleury, 
pledging  his  master  to  maintain  the  treaties  France 
had  entered  into  with  the  late  King,  and  to  show 
goodwill  towards  George  and  ill-will  to  James.  All 
these  considerations  told.  But  the  most  cogent  argu- 
ment which  the  Queen  urged,  and  the  one  which  had 
undoubtedly  the  most  weight  with  the  King,  was 
the  settlement  of  the  Civil  List.  The  new  Civil 
List,  Caroline  reminded  the  King,  was  pressing, 
but  a  change  of  Ministers  was  not.  There  was 
nobody  so  able  as  Walpole  to  secure  for  them  a 
handsome  increase  of  the  Civil  List,  for,  as  the  old 
King  said,  he  "could  turn  stones  into  gold".  Why 
then  let  private  resentment  lead  to  personal  incon- 
venience ? 

Nothing  was  done  during  the  King's  stay  at 
Leicester  House,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  world 
Compton  was  still  first  in  the  King's  favour.  At 
the  end  of  the  week  the  Court  moved  to  Kensington, 
and  by  that  time  the  Queen  had  worked  so  well  that 
the  King  sent  for  Walpole,  and  asked  him  about  the 
Civil  List.  The  new  monarch  mentioned  a  sum 
so  large  that  Walpole  was  staggered,  accustomed 
though  he  was  to  Hanoverian  rapacity ;  but  he 
showed  nothing  of  his  feeling  in  his  face,  and  pro- 


mised  to  do  his  utmost  to  serve  his  Majesty.  He 
then  had  an  audience  of  the  Queen,  who  confided  to 
him  that  Compton's  estimate  had  by  no  means  satis- 
fied the  King's  demands,  and  he  had  proposed  that 
she  should  have  only  a  poor  .£60,000  a  year. 
Walpole  at  once  grasped  the  situation.  He  de- 
clared that  he  would  obtain  a  jointure  for  her 
Majesty  of  ;£  100,000  a  year,  which  was  ,£40,000 
more  than  Compton  had  proposed,  and  he  would  force 
Parliament  to  meet  the  King's  wishes.  It  was  said 
that  Walpole  bought  his  influence  with  the  Queen  for 
this  extra  .£40,000  a  year,  but  that  was  not  wholly 
true.  Quite  apart  from  money,  Caroline  had  wit 
enough  to  see  that  the  interests  of  the  House  of 
Hanover  could  best  be  served  by  Walpole,  and  of 
all  English  statesmen  he  was  the  one  who  could 
most  be  trusted  to  frustrate  the  Jacobites — for  the 
rival  claims  of  the  Stuarts  were  an  ever  present 
danger  to  the  Hanoverian  family  until  1745.  She 
was,  of  course,  not  averse  to  receiving  something 
in  return  for  her  support,  and  Walpole,  it  must  be 
admitted,  paid,  or  rather  made  the  nation  pay,  for 
it  handsomely.  In  addition  to  the  Queen's  .£100,000 
a  year,  Somerset  House  and  Richmond  Lodge  were 
made  over  to  her.  Her  income  was  double  what 
any  queen-consort  had  enjoyed  before,  and  more 
than  any  has  been  granted  since. 

Walpole  now  realised  that  all  that  lay  between 
him  and  power  was  a  question  of  money.  He  there- 
fore went  next  morning  to  the  King  with  carefully 
prepared  estimates.  He  proposed  that  his  Majesty's 


From  the  Painting  by  John  Shackleton  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 


Civil  List  should  consist  primarily  of  the  ,£700,000  a 
year  paid  to  the  late  King ;  ,£100,000  more,  which 
had  been  paid  directly  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  the 
last  reign,  but  which  would  now  be  vested  in  the , 
King  to  make  what  allowance  he  pleased  to  his 
eldest  son  ;  and  a  further  increase  of  ,£130,000  a  year 
arising  out  of  certain  funds.  In  all,  therefore,  the 
King  would  receive  the  enormous  sum  of  more 
than  ,£900,000  a  year.  This  George  agreed 
to,  for  though  he  would  have  liked  more,  he  had 
the  sense  to  see  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  it. 
The  Queen  had  impressed  upon  him  that  Walpole 
was  the  only  man  who  could  carry  such  a  large 
increase  through  the  House  of  Commons.  Pulteney 
and  other  Opposition  politicians  were  ready  to  promise 
more  to  gain  office,  but  their  promises  were  nothing 
worth,  for  they  had  neither  the  ability  nor  the  power 
to  carry  a  large  grant  through  Parliament.  The 
King  therefore  took  Walpole  by  the  hand,  and  said 
that  he  had  considered  the  matter,  and  intended 
to  continue  him  in  office  on  the  understanding  that 
he  would  carry  through  the  Civil  List,  at  the  sum 
named.  He  added  significantly  :  "  Consider,  Sir 
Robert,  what  makes  me  easy  in  this  matter  will 
prove  for  your  ease  too  ;  it  is  for  my  life  it  is  to  be 
fixed,  and  it  is  for  your  life  ". 

Matters  thus  being  settled,  the  Queen  that 
night  at  the  drawing-room  made  known  her  ap- 
proval of  Walpole  in  a  characteristic  manner.  Lady 
Walpole  had  come  to  court  to  pay  her  respects  to 
the  King  and  Queen,  but  she  could  not  make  her 


way  to  the  royal  dais,  for  the  lords  and  ladies  turned 
their  backs  on  the  wife  of  the  fallen  Minister  (as 
they  considered  him),  and  refused  to  yield  her  place. 
By  dint  of  much  struggling  she  managed  to  reach 
the  third  row,  where  she  was  espied  by  the  Queen, 
who,  beckoning  to  her,  called  out :  "  There,  I 
am  sure,  I  see  a  friend  ".  The  crowd  in  front  im- 
mediately divided,  and  Lady  Walpole  performed 
her  obeisance  in  the  sight  of  the  wondering  court. 
The  King  and  Queen  smiled,  and  chatted  with  her 
some  little  time.  All  the  courtiers  noted  it,  and, 
"  as  I  came  away,"  said  Lady  Walpole  afterwards, 
"  I  might  have  walked  over  their  heads  had  I 
pleased  ".  Thus  Compton's  brief  dream  of  author- 
ity vanished,  and  Walpole's  tenure  in  power  was 
assured.  The  crowd  of  placemen  who  had  sur- 
rounded Compton  transferred  their  attentions  once 
more  to  Walpole,  and  the  former  was  now  as  much 
deserted  as  the  latter  had  been.  The  most 
extraordinary  part  of  the  whole  affair  was  that, 
though  Compton's  friends,  chief  among  whom  were 
Mrs.  Howard,  the  Duke  of  Argyll  and  Lord 
Chesterfield,  were  plunged  into  despondency  by 
his  fall,  Compton  himself  heeded  little  these  vicissi- 
tudes, and  was  content  to  be  given,  by  way  of 
compensation,  a  place  about  the  court,  the  garter, 
and  a  peerage  under  the  title  of  Earl  of  Wilmington. 
If  the  man  had  not  been  such  a  fool,  he  might 
almost  have  passed  for  a  philosopher. 

When  Parliament  met  a  week  later  it  was  seen 
by  all  the  world  that  Walpole  retained  his  old  place. 


It  was  Walpole  who  proposed  and  carried  through 
Parliament  the  bloated  Civil  List.  Such  was  the 
Minister's  power  that  no  one  in  the  House  of 
Commons  dared  raise  his  voice  against  it  except 
Shippen  the  Jacobite,  who  was  known  as  "  Down- 
right Shippen "  for  his  outspokenness.  He  had 
been  sent  to  the  Tower  in  1717  for  proclaiming  in 
the  House  of  Commons  the  obvious  truth  that 
George  the  First  "  was  a  stranger  to  our  language 
and  constitution "  ;  yet,  avowed  Jacobite  though 
Shippen  remained,  Walpole  never  repeated  this 
error.  Walpole  had  a  great  respect  for  him  and  used 
to  say  he  was  the  only  man  in  Parliament  whose 
price  he  did  not  know.  Shippen  on  his  part  de- 
clared :  "  Robin  and  I  are  two  honest  men,  he  is 
for  King  George  and  I  am  for  King  James,  but 
these  men  in  long  cravats  only  desire  place  under 
King  George  or  King  James  ".  Parliament,  having 
duly  passed  the  Civil  List,  was  dissolved  by  the 
King  in  person,  who  had  one  great  advantage  over 
his  father  in  that  he  was  able  to  read  his  speeches 
in  English,  albeit  with  a  broad  German  accent. 
Walpole  now  had  it  all  his  own  way.  All  the  old 
King's  Ministers  were  kept  in  office,  even  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle  whom  the  King  had  especially  hated- 
all,  that  is,  except  Lord  Berkeley,  who  was  forced 
to  resign  in  consequence  of  the  Queen  having  found 
in  the  late  King's  cabinet  a  paper  (of  which  mention 
has  already  been  made)  containing  a  plan  to  kidnap 
the  Prince  of  Wales  and  send  him  off  to  America. 
Berkeley,  who  had  drawn  up  the  document,  found 

VOL.    II.  2 


it  convenient  to  withdraw  to  the  Continent  No 
other  changes  of  importance  were  made.  Malpas 
was  reinstated  ;  Yonge  had  to  remain  out  of  office 
for  a  little  time  longer,  but  was  eventually  given 
a  small  post. 

The  Jacobites  had  always  expected  that  the 
death  of  George  the  First  would,  in  some  way, 
benefit  the  Stuart  cause — in  what  way  it  is  not 
clear,  for  George  the  Second  when  Prince  of 
Wales  was  less  unpopular  than  his  father.  But 
the  Jacobites  hugged  the  hope  that  the  death  of 
the  first  Hanoverian  king  would  plunge  the  country 
into  confusion,  and  so  it  might  have  done,  if 
George  the  First  had  not  been  so  inconsiderate 
as  to  die  at  a  moment  when  the  Jacobites  were 
in  great  confusion  themselves.  For  the  last  two  or 
three  years  James's  little  court  had  been  distracted 
by  internal  jealousies  and  intrigues.  Lord  Mar, 
who  superseded  Bolingbroke,  had,  notwithstanding 
all  his  services,  been  superseded  by  Hay,  whom 
James  appointed  his  Secretary  of  State  and  created 
Earl  of  Inverness.  Hay  had  a  wife,  who  shared  in 
these  barren  honours,  which,  it  was  said,  she  had  done 
much  to  win.  Her  brother,  Murray,  James  created 
Earl  of  Dunbar.  This  trio,  of  whom  the  lady  was 
the  most  arrogant,  entirely  governed  James,  who, 
like  a  true  Stuart,  was  swayed  by  favourites.  They 
created  great  dissatisfaction  at  his  court.  It  was 
not  long  before  his  consort,  Clementina,  who  was 
a  princess  of  great  beauty  and  virtue,  but  extremely 
high-spirited,  had  cause  to  complain  of  the  insolence 


of  Inverness  and  his  wife.  It  was  said  that  Lady 
Inverness  was  James's  mistress,  and  colour  was  lent 
to  the  rumour  by  the  fact  that  Clementina  insisted 
upon  her  dismissal  from  her  court.  James  refused, 
and  she  withdrew  from  her  husband's  palace  and 
retired  to  the  convent  of  St.  Cecilia  at  Rome.  A 
long  correspondence  ensued  between  James  and 
Clementina,  but  she  declined  to  return  unless  Lady 
Inverness  was  dismissed,  and  so  brought  about  a 
virtual  separation.  This  domestic  scandal  did  great 
harm  to  the  Stuart  cause  among  the  Roman  Catholic 
princes  of  Europe,  all  of  whom  warmly  espoused 
Clementina's  side.  The  Emperor,  who  was  her 
kinsman,  was  highly  displeased,  the  Queen  of  Spain, 
who  was  her  friend,  was  indignant,  the  Jacobites 
in  England  were  divided  amongst  themselves,  and 
in  Scotland  James's  followers  fell  off  everywhere  in 
numbers  and  in  zeal.  The  strongest  representations 
were  made  to  James  from  every  side,  but  for  a  long 
time  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  them  all.  At  last,  after 
protracted  negotiations,  he  accepted  Inverness's 
resignation  and  Lady  Inverness  went  with  her  hus- 
band. Clementina  agreed  to  leave  her  convent  and 
rejoin  her  husband  who  was  then  at  Bologna.  She 
was  actually  on  the  road  when  the  news  arrived  of 
George  the  First's  death.  Immediately  all  domestic 
considerations  were  swallowed  up  in  the  political 
necessities  of  the  moment. 

Seeing  the  advisability  of  being  nearer  England 
at  this  crisis,  James  set  out  from  Bologna  on  the 
pretext  of  meeting  his  consort,  but  turning  back 


half-way,  he  posted  with  all  speed  to  Lorraine.  As 
soon  as  he  arrived  at  Nancy  in  Lorraine  he  sent  a 
messenger  to  Atterbury,  who  was  acting  as  his 
agent  in  Paris,  another  to  Lord  Orrery,  his  agent 
in  London,  and  a  third  to  Lockhart  at  Liege,  who 
was  acting  as  his  agent  for  Scotland.  James  had 
no  lack  of  courage,  and  was  anxious  to  set  out 
for  the  Highlands  at  once,  though  he  had  neither 
a  settled  scheme  nor  promise  of  foreign  aid.  But 
the  news  he  received  from  the  north  of  the  Tweed 
was  discouraging,  and  the  despatches  from  Eng- 
land were  worse.  Lord  Strafford  wrote  to  him a 
saying  that  the  tide  in  favour  of  the  "  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Hanover,"  as  he  called  them,  was  too 
strong  at  present  for  the  Jacobites  to  resist,  and  it 
would  be  better  to  wait  until  dissatisfaction  broke 
out  again,  which  he  anticipated  would  not  be  long. 
"  I  am  convinced,"  he  wrote,  "that  the  same  violent 
and  corrupt  measures  taken  by  the  father  will  be 
pursued  by  the  son,  who  is  passionate,  proud,  and 
peevish,  and  though  he  talks  of  ruling  by  himself, 
he  will  just  be  governed  as  his  father  was.  But  his 
declarations  that  he  will  make  no  distinction  of 
parties,  and  his  turning  off  the  Germans  make  him 
popular  at  present."  Strafford,  like  many  others, 
made  the  mistake  of  leaving  Queen  Caroline  out  of 
his  calculations. 

It  was  impossible  for  James  to  stay  in  Lorraine, 
for  the  French  Government,  at  the  instigation  of 
Walpole,  ordered  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  to  expel  the 

xThe  Earl  of  Strafford  to  James,  2ist  June,  1727. 


"  Pretender  "  from  his  territory.  The  duke,  who  was 
only  a  vassal  of  France,  was  forced  to  obey,  and  urged 
his  unwelcome  guest  to  leave  Lorraine  within  three 
days.  So  James  withdrew  under  protest.  "  In  my 
present  situation,"  he  wrote  to  Atterbury,  "  I  cannot 
pretend  to  do  anything  essential  for  my  interest,  and 
all  that  remains  is  that  the  world  should  see  that 
I  have  done  my  part."1  It  must  be  admitted  that 
he  was  ready  to  do  it  bravely. 

James  first  sought  refuge  in  the  Papal  State  of 
Avignon,  but  here  again  the  relentless  English 
Government,  acting  through  the  French,  managed  to 
hunt  him  out,  and  the  following  year  the  heir  of  our 
Stuart  Kings  was  forced  to  return  a  fugitive  to  Italy. 
He  was  joined  by  Clementina  and  afterwards  lived 
harmoniously  with  her.  Unfortunate  in  all  else, 
James  was  at  least  fortunate  in  his  consort,  for  all 
authorities  unite  in  praising  her  grace  and  goodness, 
her  talents  and  charity. 

The  immediate  danger  of  a  Jacobite  rising  was 
thus  warded  off,  but  so  long  as  James  and  his  two 
sons  lived  the  House  of  Hanover  could  not  enjoy 
undisputed  title  to  the  throne  of  England.  In 
these  early  days,  as  Caroline  knew  well,  it  behoved 
the  princes  of  the  new  dynasty  to  walk  warily  and 
court  the  popular  goodwill,  for  there  was  always 
an  alternative  king  in  James,  who  by  a  turn  of 
Fortune's  wheel  might  find  himself  upon  the  throne 
of  his  fathers.  Though  the  official  world  and  most 
of  those  in  high  places  were  all  for  the  Hanoverian 

1  James  to  Atterbury,  gth  August,  1727. 


succession,  and  though  Walpole  had  the  means  to 
corrupt  members  of  Parliament  and  buy  constituen- 
cies as  he  would,  yet  the  heart  of  the  people  remained 
very  tender  towards  the  exiled  royal  family  and  felt 
a  profound  compassion  for  their  misfortunes. 

The  excitement  consequent  on  the  new  reign 
continued  for  some  months,  and  the  King,  not 
having  had  time  to  make  himself  enemies,  was, 
to  outward  semblance,  popular.  A  good  deal  was 
due  to  interested  motives.  The  court  was  crowded 
with  personages  struggling  for  place.  Lord  Orrery 
wrote  to  James  inveighing  bitterly  against  "  the 
civility,  ignorance  and  poor  spirit  of  our  nobility 
and  gentry,  striving  who  shall  sell  themselves  at  the 
best  price  to  the  court,  but  resolved  to  sell  them- 
selves at  any ".  Yet  he  is  constrained  to  add : 
"  There  do  not  appear  to  be  many  discontented 
people  V  Pope,  too,  who  was  now  quite  out  of  favour 
at  court,  wrote  to  a  friend  that  the  new  reign  "  has 
put  the  whole  world  into  a  new  state ;  but,"  he  adds 
enviously,  "the  only  use  I  have,  shall,  or  wish  to 
make  of  it,  is  to  observe  the  disparity  of  men  from 
themselves  in  a  week's  time  ;  desultory  leaping  and 
catching  of  new  modes,  new  manners  and  that 
strong  spirit  of  life  with  which  men,  broken  and  dis- 
appointed, resume  their  hopes,  their  solicitations, 
their  ambitions".  The  political  Jeremiahs  of  the 
time  bewailed  the  wholesale  trafficking  in  places, 
and  the  universal  corruption.  The  King  himself 
did  not  set  a  high  example  of  public  or  private 

1  Lord  Orrery  to  James,  August,  1727. 


honesty  ;  he  had  wrung  the  highest  sum  he  could 
from  Parliament  for  his  Civil  List,  and  at  one  of  his 
early  Councils  he  distinguished  himself  by  an  act 
which  can  only  be  described  as  dishonest.  The 
timid  and  time-serving  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
old  Dr.  Wake,  produced  the  late  King's  will, 
which  had  been  entrusted  to  him,  and  handed  it  to 
George,  fully  expecting  him  to  open  it  and  read 
it  to  the  Council.  The  King  took  it  without  a 
word,  put  it  into  his  pocket,  and  walked  out  of  the 
room.  The  Archbishop  was  so  taken  aback  at 
this  proceeding,  that  neither  he  nor  the  other 
privy  councillors  present  raised  a  word  in  protest. 
George  probably  burnt  the  will  after  reading  it, 
in.  any  case  it  was  never  seen  again.  But  the  old 
King,  who  probably  feared  that  some  such  fate 
would  befall  his  testament,  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  make  a  second  copy,  which  he  entrusted  to  the 
safe  keeping  of  his  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbiittel. 
The  duke  soon  intimated  this  fact  to  the  new  King 
of  England,  and  at  the  same  time  hinted  that  he 
had  no  wish  to  make  matters  disagreeable  (which 
he  could  easily  do  if  he  wished,  for  the  King  and 
Queen  of  Prussia  were  furious),  if  his  silence 
were  made  worth  his  while.  George  took  the 
hint,  and  despatched  a  messenger  to  Wolfenbuttel 
promising  the  duke  a  subsidy.  In  return  the 
messenger  brought  back  the  duplicate  of  the  will, 
and  this  too  was  destroyed. 

The  only  excuse  that  can  be  urged  for  the  King's 
conduct,  which  probably  defrauded  among  others  his 


sister,  the  Queen  of  Prussia,  and  his  son  Prince 
Frederick,  was  that  George  the  First  had  treated  the 
will  of  his  consort,  Sophie  Dorothea  of  Celle,  in  the 
same  way,  to  the  detriment,  it  was  suspected,  of  both 
his  son  and  his  daughter.  George  the  Second  also, 
when  Electoral  Prince  of  Hanover,  had  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  his  father  had  unjustly  deprived  him  of  a 
substantial  inheritance  which  had  been  left  him  by 
his  maternal  grandfather,  the  Duke  of  Celle.  The 
burning  of  wills  seems  to  have  been  a  peculiarity 
of  the  Hanoverian  family  at  this  time,  for  a  year 
or  two  later,  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales,  accused 
his  father  of  destroying  the  will  of  his  uncle 
Ernest  Augustus  Duke  of  York  and  Bishop  of 
Osnabriick.  He  died  a  year  after  his  brother, 
George  the  First,  and  both  Prince  Frederick  and 
the  Queen  of  Prussia  declared  that  they  would  have 
largely  benefited  by  his  death  had  it  not  been  for  the 
chicanery  of  George  the  Second.  Queen  Caroline 
always  stoutly  denied  this  imputation,  and  main- 
tained that  the  Duke  of  York  had  nothing  to  leave, 
except  ,£50,000  which  he  left  to  his  nephew  King 
George,  and  his  jewels  which  he  bequeathed  to 
his  niece  the  Queen  of  Prussia,  to  whom  they  were 
immediately  sent.  But  neither  the  King  nor  the 
Queen  of  Prussia  were  satisfied  with  this  explana- 
tion, and  they  also  had  a  further  dispute  with 
George  about  the  French  possessions  of  his  mother, 
Sophie  Dorothea,  which  she  had  inherited  through 
her  mother,  Eleonore  d'Olbreuse,  who  was  de- 
scended from  an  ancient  Huguenot  family  of  Poitou. 


The  person  who  probably  lost  most  by  the  de- 
struction of  George  the  First's  will  was  the  Duchess 
of  Kendal,  but  she  did  not  venture  to  lift  her  voice  in 
protest.  George  the  Second  no  doubt  felt  that  she 
had  amassed  more  than  she  deserved  during  the  late 
King's  lifetime,  and  if  he  allowed  her  to  remain  in 
peaceable  possession  of  her  plunder  it  was  as  much 
as  she  had  any  right  to  expect.  The  duchess 
seems  to  have  thought  so  too,  but  her  daughter, 
Lady  Walsingham,  who  was  also  the  late  King's 
daughter,  was  not  so  complaisant.  When  a  few 
years  later  Lord  Chesterfield  married  her  in  the 
belief  that  she  was  a  great  heiress  (in  which  hope  he 
was  disappointed),  she  confided  to  him  that  George 
the  First  had  left  her  ,£40,000  in  his  will,  which 
had  never  been  paid.  Lord  Chesterfield,  who  was 
then  out  of  favour  at  court  and  had  no  hope  of 
regaining  it,  instituted,  or  threatened  to  institute, 
legal  proceedings  to  recover  the  legacy.  The  case 
never  came  into  court,  for  half  the  sum,  ,£20,000,  was 
offered,  and  accepted,  as  a  compromise. 

The  aged  Duchess  of  Kendal  was  the  only 
person  in  the  world  who  really  mourned  the  late 
King.  Within  a  week  of  his  death  George  the  First 
was  as  completely  forgotten  as  though  he  had  never 
been  ;  the  only  reminder  of  his  reign  was  the  official 
mourning.  The  Duchess  of  Kendal  had  accom- 
panied him  on  his  last  journey,  but,  being  indisposed 
by  the  sea  voyage,  she  had  tarried  at  the  Hague  a  day 
to  recover,  and,  like  Lord  Townshend,  was  follow- 
ing the  King  on  the  road  to  Hanover,  when  a 


messenger  rode  up  to  her  coach  with  the  tidings  of 
his  death.  The  duchess  was  overwhelmed  with 
grief;  she  beat  her  breast,  tore  her  hair,  and  rent 
the  air  with  her  cries.  But  her  sorrow  did  not  get 
the  better  of  her  prudence,  for,  not  being  sure  of  the 
reception  that  awaited  her  from  the  new  King,  she 
resolved  to  remove  herself  from  his  Hanoverian 
dominions,  and  repaired  to  the  neighbouring  territory 
of  Wolfenbiittel.  Her  fears  proved  to  be  ground- 
less, for  Queen  Caroline  harboured  towards  the 
ex-mistress  no  feelings  of  ill-will,  and  it  followed 
that  the  King  did  not  either.  On  the  contrary, 
Caroline  had  liked  the  duchess,  who,  unlike  Lady 
Darlington,  was  no  mischief-maker,  and  had  person- 
ally interceded  with  George  the  First,  though  un- 
successfully, to  restore  her  children  to  the  Princess. 
Moreover  she  was  such  an  old-established  institution 
that  Caroline  had  come  to  look  upon  her  almost  in 
the  light  of  the  late  King's  wife.  The  Queen 
wrote  the  following  letter  to  her  within  a  fortnight 
of  George  the  First's  death  : — 

"  KENSINGTON,  June  2^th,  1727. 

"  My  first  thought,  my  dear  Duchess,  has  been 
of  you  in  the  misfortune  that  has  befallen  us  ;  I 
know  well  your  devotion  and  love  for  the  late  King, 
and  I  fear  for  your  health  ;  only  the  resignation  which 
you  have  always  shown  to  the  divine  will  can 
sustain  you  under  such  a  loss.  I  wish  I  could  con- 
vey to  you  how  much  I  feel  for  you,  and  how 
anxious  I  am  about  your  health,  but  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  do  so  adequately.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 


greatly  this  trouble  has  affected  me.  I  had  the  honour 
of  knowing  the  late  King,  you  know  that  to  know 
him  was  sufficient  to  make  one  love  him  also.  I 
know  that  you  always  tried  to  render  good  service 
to  the  King  (George  II.) ;  he  knows  it  too,  and  will 
remember  it  himself  to  you  by  letter.  I  hope  you 
realise  that  I  am  your  friend,  it  is  my  pleasure  and 
my  duty  to  remind  you  of  the  fact  and  to  tell  you 
that  I  and  the  King  will  always  be  glad  to  do  all  we 
can  to  help  you.  Write  to  me,  I  pray  you,  and  give 
me  an  opportunity  to  show  how  much  I  love  you. — 

It  is  impossible  to  accept  literally  these  expres- 
sions of  affection.  Allowing  for  exaggeration  they 
do  credit  to  Caroline's  heart,  but  the  letter  was 
probably  dictated  as  much  by  prudence  as  by 
sympathy,  for  the  Duchess  of  Kendal  was  then  at 
Wolfenbuttel,  and  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbiittel  had 
the  duplicate  of  the  late  King's  will.  Caroline  was 
anxious  to  avoid  a  family  scandal,  for  she  knew  by 
experience  how  bad  these  things  were  for  the 
dynasty,  and  in  the  negotiations  which  passed 
between  George  the  Second  and  the  duke  it  is 
probable  that  the  Duchess  of  Kendal  played  a 
part,  though  it  is  improbable  that  she  received  any 
portion  of  the  subsidy.  That  matters  were  amicably 
arranged  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  few  months 
later  the  duchess  returned  to  England,  and  took  up 
her  abode  at  Kendal  House,  Twickenham,  where 
she  lived  in  comfortable  retirement  until  the  end  of 


her  days.  She  no  longer  appeared  at  court,  but 
the  King  and  Queen  would  never  permit  her  to  be 
molested  in  any  way — so  she  may  be  said  to  have 
enjoyed  their  protection.  She  made  a  cult  of  her 
George's  memory,  dressing  always  as  a  widow  and 
wearing  the  deepest  weeds.  She  was  of  a  pious,  not 
to  say  superstitious,  turn  of  mind,  and  declared  that 
George  the  First  had  told  her  that  his  devotion  was 
so  great  that  he  would  return  to  her  even  after  death. 
So  one  day  when  a  raven  hopped  in  at  the  window 
the  bereaved  duchess  took  it  into  her  head  that  this 
was  the  reincarnation  of  the  dead  King.  She  captured 
the  bird,  put  it  into  a  golden  cage,  kept  it  always 
by  her,  and  provided  for  it  in  her  will.  Her  death 
took  place  in  1743,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
five  years.  Her  wealth  was  divided  among  her 
German  relations,  and  Kendal  House  was  converted 
into  a  tea  garden  and  afterwards  pulled  down. 




GEORGE  THE  FIRST  was  buried  at  Herrenhausen  in 
accordance  with  his  expressed  wish.  His  funeral 
did  not  take  place  until  some  three  months  aftei« 
his  death,  and  the  new  King  was  represented  at 
it  by  his  uncle  the  Duke  of  York.  His  decision 
not  to  go  to  Hanover  for  his  father's  obsequies 
gave  rise  to  much  satisfaction  in  England,  and  this 
combined  with  his  summary  dismissal  of  the  Han- 
overian favourites  was  quoted  as,  a  proof  of  his 
English  predilections. 

The  court  mourning  came  to  an  end  soon  after 
the  funeral,  and  preparations  were  pushed  forward 
with  all  speed  for  the  coronation.  George  the 
Second  determined  that  it  should  be  a  pageant 
from  which  no  splendid  detail  was  missing.  The 
King  and  Queen  ordered  robes  of  extraordinary  rich- 
ness, but  Caroline  was  badly  off  for  jewels.  Queen 
Anne  had  possessed  a  great  number  of  beautiful 
gems,  but  Schulemburg,  Kielmansegge,  and  the  other 
German  favourites  had  so  despoiled  Anne's  jewel- 
chest,  that  nothing  was  left  for  the  new  Queen  but 
a  solitary  pearl  necklace.  Caroline,  however,  rose 
to  the  occasion  and  gathered  together  for  the  coro- 


nation  not  only  all  her  personal  jewels  which  went 
to  make  her  crown,  but  many  more.  When  the 
great  day  arrived  she  appeared,  we  are  told,  wearing 
"on  her  head  and  shoulders  all  the  pearls  she  could 
borrow  from  ladies  of  quality  from  one  end  of  the 
town,  and  on  her  petticoat  all  the  diamonds  she 
could  hire  of  the  Jews  and  jewellers  at  the  other  ". 

The  coronation  of  King  George  the  Second 
and  Queen  Caroline  took  place  on  October  iith, 
1727,  with  all  the  solemnity  suitable  for  the  occasion, 
and  more  than  the  usual  magnificence.  The  day 
was  gloriously  fine,  and  multitudes  of  people  lined 
the  gaily  decorated  streets.  Caroline  was  the  first 
Queen  Consort  to  be  crowned  at  Westminster 
Abbey  since  Anne  of  Denmark,  consort  of  James 
the  First,  from  whose  daughter  Elizabeth  the 
House  of  Hanover  derived  its  title  to  the  British 
Crown.  The  coincidence  was  hailed  as  a  propitious 
omen.  The  Queens-Consort  subsequent  to  Anne 
of  Denmark  had  been  Roman  Catholics,  and  Anne 
and  Mary  the  Second  were  Queens- Regnant.  Caro- 
line was  determined  that  she  would  not  be  relegated 
to  the  background,  and,  so  far  as  circumstances 
permitted,  the  ceremonial  at  this  coronation  followed 
more  closely  that  of  William  and  Mary  than 
of  James  the  First  and  Anne  of  Denmark.  Yet 
Mary  was  a  Queen- Regnant  who  placed  all  her 
power  in  her  husband's  hands ;  Caroline  was  a 
Queen-Consort  who  took  all  her  power  from  her 
husband's  hands.  No  two  women  could  be  more 


On  the  day  of  the  coronation  the  King  and 
Queen  set  out  from  St.  James's  Palace  before  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  King  went  to  West- 
minster Hall  direct.  The  Queen,  who  put  on 
everything  new  for  the  occasion  "even  to  her  shift," 
was  carried  down  through  St.  James's  Park  in  her 
chair  to  Black  Rod's  Room  in  the  House  of  Lords. 
There  she  was  vested  in  her  state  robes,  and  waited 
until  the  officials  came  to  escort  her  to  Westminster 
Hall.  She  took  her  place  there  by  the  King's  side  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  seated  like  him  in  a  chair 
of  state  under  a  golden  canopy  ;  the  Queen's  chair 
was  to  the  left  of  the  King's.  The  ceremony  of  pre- 
senting the  sword  and  spurs  was  then  gone  through, 
and  the  Dean  and  Canons  of  Westminster  arrived 
from  the  Abbey  bearing  the  Bible  and  part  of  the  re- 
galia. The  King's  regalia  was  St.  Edward's  crown, 
borne  upon  a  cushion  of  cloth  of  gold,  the  orb  with 
the  cross,  the  sceptre  with  the  dove,  the  sceptre  with 
the  cross,  and  St.  Edward's  staff.  The  Queen's 
regalia  consisted  of  her  crown,  her  sceptre  with  the 
cross,  and  the  ivory  rod  with  the  dove.  All  these 
were  severally  presented  to  their  Majesties,  and 
then  delivered  to  the  lords  who  were  commissioned 
to  bear  them. 

At  noon  a  procession  on  foot  was  formed 
from  Westminster  Hall  to  the  Abbey.  A  way  had 
been  raised  for  the  purpose,  floored  with  boards, 
covered  with  blue  cloth,  and  railed  on  either  side. 
The  procession  was  headed  by  a  military  band, 
and  began  with  the  King's  herb  woman  and  her 


maids  who  strewed  flowers  and  sweet  herbs.  It  was 
composed  in  order  of  precedence  from  the  smallest 
officials  (even  the  organ  blower  was  not  forgotten) 
up  to  the  great  officers  of  state.  The  peers  and 
peeresses  wearing  their  robes  of  state  and  carry- 
ing their  coronets  in  their  hands  walked  in  this 
procession  in  order  mete,  from  the  barons  and 
baronesses  up  to  the  dukes  and  duchesses.  The 
Lord  Privy  Seal,  the  Archbishop  of  York  and  the 
Lord  High  Chancellor  followed.  Then,  after  an 
interval  of  a  few  paces  came  the  Queen,  preceded 
by  her  crown  which  was  borne  by  the  Duke  of  St. 
Albans.  The  Queen  was  supported  on  either  side 
by  the  Bishops  of  Winchester  and  London,  and  she 
majestically  walked  alone  "  in  her  royal  robes  of 
purple  velvet,  richly  furred  with  ermine,  having  a 
circle  of  gold  set  with  large  jewels  upon  her  Ma- 
jesty's head,  going  under  a  canopy  borne  by  the 
Barons  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  forty  gentlemen  pen- 
sioners going  on  the  outsides  of  the  canopy,  and  the 
Serjeants  of  arms  attending  'V  The  Queen's  train 
was  borne  by  the  Princess  Royal  and  the  Princesses 
Amelia  and  Caroline,  who  were  vested  in  purple 
robes  of  state,  with  circles  on  their  heads ;  their 
coronets  were  borne  behind  them  by  three  peers. 
The  princesses  were  followed  by  the  four  ladies  of 
the  Queen's  Household,  the  Duchess  of  Dorset,  the 

111  A.  particular  account  of  the  solemnities  used  at  the  Corona- 
tion of  His  Sacred  Majesty  King  George  II.  and  of  his  Royal  Consort 
Queen  Caroline  on  Wednesday  the  nth  October,  1727,"  London, 
1760.  From  the  pamphlet  the  other  particulars  of  the  coronation 
are  taken. 


Countess  of  Sussex,  Mrs.  Herbert  and  Mrs.  Howard. 
Immediately  after  the  Queen's  procession  came  the 
Bishop  of  Coventry  bearing  the  Holy  Bible  on  a 
velvet  cushion.  Then,  under  a  canopy  of  cloth  of 
gold,  walked  "His  Sacred  Majesty,  King  George 
II.,  in  his  royal  robes  of  crimson  velvet,  furred  with 
ermine  and  bordered  with  gold  lace,  wearing  on  his 
head  a  cap  of  estate  of  crimson  velvet,  adorned  with 
large  jewels,  and  turned  up  with  ermine".  The 
King  was  supported  on  either  side  by  bishops,  and 
his  train  was  borne  by  four  eldest  sons  of  noblemen 
and  the  Master  of  the  Robes,  and  he  was  followed  by 
a  numerous  and  splendid  company  of  officials.  At 
the  great  west  door  of  the  Abbey  the  procession 
was  met  by  the  Archb  shop  of  Canterbury,  the  Dean 
of  Westminster  and  other  ecclesiastical  dignitaries. 
It  moved  slowly  up  the  nave  to  the  singing  of  an 

The  King  and  Queen  seated  themselves  on 
chairs  of  state,  facing  the  altar,  and  the  coronation 
service,  which  is  really  an  interpolation  in  the  office 
of  Holy  Communion,  began.  The  Archbishop  pro- 
ceeded with  the  Communion  service  until  the  Nicene 
Creed,  after  which  a  special  sermon  was  preached  by 
the  Bishop  of  Oxford.  The  sermon  over,  the  King 
subscribed  the  Declaration  against  Transubstantia- 
tion  and  took  the  Coronation  Oath. 

The  King  then  approached  the  altar,  and  knelt 
to  be  crowned.  He  was  anointed  by  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  upon  his  head,  his  breast,  and  the 

palms  of  his  hands.    He  was  presented  with  the  spurs, 
VOL.  n.  3 


girt  with  the  sword,  and  vested  with  the  armills  and 
the  imperial  pall ;  the  orb  with  the  cross  was  placed  in 
his  left  hand,  and  the  ring  was  put  upon  the  fourth 
finger  of  his  right  hand.  The  Archbishop  also 
delivered  to  the  kneeling  King  the  sceptre  with  the 
cross,  and  the  rod  with  the  dove,  and,  assisted  by 
the  other  bishops  present,  "put  the  crown  reverently 
upon  His  Majesty's  head,  at  which  sight  all  the 
spectators  repeated  their  loud  shouts,  the  trumpets 
sounded,  and  upon  a  signal  given  the  great  guns  in 
the  Park  and  the  Tower  were  fired.  The  peers 
then  put  on  their  coronets."  When  the  shouts 
ceased  the  Archbishop  proceeded  with  the  divine 
office.  He  delivered  the  Bible  to  the  King  and 
read  the  benedictions.  "His  Majesty  was  there- 
upon pleased  to  kiss  the  Archbishops  and  Bishops 
as  they  knelt  before  him  one  after  another."  Then 
the  Te  Deum  was  sung  and  the  King  was  lifted 
upon  his  throne  and  the  peers  did  their  homage. 
During  this  ceremony  medals  of  gold  were  given 
to  the  peers  and  peeresses,  and  medals  of  silver 
were  thrown  among  the  congregation. 

The  Queen  now  advanced  for  her  coronation. 
**  Her  Majesty,  supported  by  the  Bishops  of  London 
and  Winchester,  knelt  at  the  steps  of  the  altar,  and, 
being  anointed  with  the  holy  oil  on  the  head  and 
breasts,  and  receiving  the  ring,  the  Archbishop 
reverently  set  the  crown  upon  her  Majesty's  head, 
whereupon  the  three  princesses  and  the  peeresses 
put  on  their  coronets,  and  her  Majesty  having 
received  the  sceptre  with  the  cross  and  the 

sfjs.  c  7   ,•/  t/if  I. \-suit:  ,-'  WAS  ;r.  V/AV  /•/.•/£  JfA  1 1. ,  ^'/1,-n-itM  fan-  the;  ,/w 
n-M  tfir  .\'<<  mi.i  /  r  ,mU  t-tftsrj,'r^fJ)f.vA'f.n.  <•/;  t/te-Day  .•/•  M<-   (  uroiuii. 
r  ,•/"//;,-  fluinii>j<iii.<  f><-r  r.-nmha  rf>t  ter,'rm-nv  >>r  «'lialli-iK>    /i-/i,i>c  1/1?  A  r.V<:  \ ,     nv  >•,',„ 
Vii,,,,,-  J-/if  ».*../,  laM&mSagdAra. 



ivory  rod  with  the  dove,  was  conducted  to  her 

The  King  and  Queen  then  made  their  oblations 
and  received  the  Holy  Communion. 

When  the  long  service  was  over  their  Majesties 
proceeded  to  St.  Edward's  Chapel,  where  the  King 
was  arrayed  in  a  vesture  of  purple  velvet,  but  the 
Queen  retained  her  robes  of  state.  Their  Majes- 
ties, wearing  their  crowns,  then  returned  on  foot  to 
Westminster  Hall,  and  the  long  train  of  peers  and 
peeresses,  all  wearing  their  coronets,  followed. 

In  Westminster  Hall  the  King  and  Queen  took 
their  seats  on  a  dais  at  a  high  table  across  the  upper 
end  of  the  hall ;  the  three  princesses  sat  at  one  end 
of  this  table.  The  nobility  and  other  persons  of 
quality  bidden  to  the  feast  seated  themselves  at 
tables  running  down  the  hall,  and  the  coronation 
banquet  began.  After  the  first  course  had  been 
served,  the  King's  Champion,  who  enjoyed  that 
office  by  virtue  of  being  Lord  of  the  Manor  of 
Scrivelsby  in  Lincolnshire,  entered.  He  was  com- 
pletely armed  in  a  suit  of  white  armour  and  was 
mounted  on  a  "  goodly  white  horse  richly  capari- 
soned ".  The  Champion  carried  a  gauntlet  in  his 
right  hand,  and  his  helmet  was  adorned  with  a  plume 
of  feathers — red,  white,  and  blue.  Approaching 
their  Majesties'  table  the  Champion  proclaimed  his 
challenge  in  a  loud  voice  : — 

"  If  any  person  of  what  degree  soever \  high  or 
low>  shall  deny  or  gainsay  Our  Sovereign  Lord  King 
George  //.,  King  of  Great  Britain,  France  and 


Ireland,  Defender  of  the  Faith,  etc.,  son  and  next 
heir  to  Our  Sovereign  Lord  King  George  I.,  the 
last  King  deceased,  to  be  the  Right  Heir  to  the 
Imperial  Croivn  of  this  Realm  of  Great  Britain, 
or  that  he  ought  not  to  enjoy  the  same;  here  is 
his  Champion  who  saith  that  he  lyeth  and  is  a 
false  Traytor,  being  ready  in  person  to  combat  with 
him  and  in  this  quarrel  will  adventure  his  life  against 
him  on  what  day  soever  he  shall  be  appointed." 

Then  the  Champion  cast  down  his  gauntlet, 
which,  when  it  had  lain  some  few  minutes,  was 
picked  up  by  a  herald  and  re-delivered  to  him.  The 
Champion  went  through  this  performance  three 
times,  and  after  the  third  he  made  a  low  obeisance 
to  the  King.  Whereupon  the  cup  bearer  brought 
to  the  King  a  gold  bowl  of  wine  with  a  cover,  and 
his  Majesty  drank  to  the  Champion  and  sent  him 
the  bowl  by  the  cup  bearer.  The  Champion,  still 
on  horseback,  put  on  his  gauntlet,  received  the  bowl 
and  drank  from  it,  and  after  making  a  second  re- 
verence to  their  Majesties,  departed  from  the  hall, 
taking  with  him  the  bowl  and  cover  as  his  fee.  As 
soon  as  the  Champion  had  gone  out,  the  heralds, 
after  three  obeisances  to  the  King,  proclaimed  his 
style  as  follows  in  Latin,  French  and  English  : 

"  Of  the  'Most  High,  Most  Mighty  and  Most 
Excellent  Monarch  George  II.,  by  the  Grace  of  God 
King  of  Great  Britain,  France  and  Ireland,  De- 
fender of  the  Faith." 

These  ceremonies  over  the  King  and  Queen  pro- 
ceeded with  their  dinner.  "The  whole  solemnity," 


we  read,  "  was  performed  with  the  greatest  splen- 
dour and  magnificence,  and  without  any  disorder  ; 
and  what  was  most  admired  in  the  hall  were  the 
chandeliers,  branches  and  sconces,  in  which  were 
near  two  thousand  wax  candles,  which  being  lighted 
at  once,  yielded  an  exceeding  fine  prospect."  Their 
Majesties  did  not  leave  Westminster  Hall  until 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  they  returned  to 
St.  James's  Palace  to  rest  after  their  labours.  But 
their  loyal  subjects  prolonged  the  rejoicings  far  into 
the  night  with  bonfires,  illuminations,  ringing  of 
bells,  and  other  demonstrations  of  joy. 

Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  who  was  present 
at  the  coronation,  wrote  a  lively  account  of  the 
scene,  though  she  was  more  concerned  with  the 
deportment  of  her  friends  and  acquaintances  than 
with  details  of  the  ceremonial.  She  comments  on 
the  "great  variety  of  airs"  of  those  present.  "  Some 
languished  and  others  strutted,"  she  writes,  "  but  a 
visible  satisfaction  was  diffused  over  every  counte- 
nance as  soon  as  the  coronet  was  clapped  on  the 
head.  But  she  that  drew  the  greater  number  of 
eyes  was  indisputably  Lady  Orkney.  She  exposed 
behind  a  mixture  of  fat  and  wrinkles,  and  before  a 
very  considerable  protuberance  which  preceded  her. 
Add  to  this  the  inestimable  roll  of  her  eyes,  and 
her  grey  hairs,  which  by  good  fortune  stood  directly 
upright,  and  'tis  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  de- 
lightful spectacle.  She  had  embellished  all  this 
with  considerable  magnificence,  which  made  her 
look  as  big  again  as  usual ;  and  I  should  have 


thought  her  one  of  the  largest  things  of  God's 
making,  if  my  Lady  St.  John  had  not  displayed 
all  her  charms  in  honour  of  the  day.  The  poor 
Duchess  of  Montrose  crept  along  with  a  dozen 
black  snakes  playing  round  her  face,  and  my  Lady 
Portland,  who  has  fallen  away  since  her  dismissal 
from  Court,1  represented  very  finely  an  Egyptian 
mummy  embroidered  over  with  hieroglyphics." 

The  magnificence  of  the  coronation  was  the  talk 
of  the  town  for  a  long  time.  As  London  was  very 
full  of  persons  of  quality  who  had  come  from  far 
and  near  to  attend  it,  the  theatre  of  Drury  Lane 
seized  the  opportunity  to  give  a  highly  ornate 
performance  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  with  the 
coronation  of  Anne  Boleyn  at  the  end  of  the  play, 
a  scene  on  which  ^1,000  (an  unheard  of  sum  to 
spend  upon  mounting  a  scene  in  those  days)  was 
expended.  The  scene  at  Drury  Lane  rivalled  in 
mock  splendour  the  ceremonial  at  the  Abbey.  All 
the  town  flocked  to  see  it,  both  those  who  had  been 
present  at  the  real  coronation  and  those  who  had 
not.  The  King  and  Queen  and  the  young  princesses 
came  more  than  once,  and  graciously  expressed  their 
approval.  "  The  Coronation  "  was  repeated  in  the 
provinces  for  a  year  or  two  later. 

The  City  of  London  was  not  backward  in 
showing  its  loyalty  to  George  the  Second  ;  an 

1  She  had  been   appointed  governess  to  the  three  eldest  prin- 
cesses by  George  I.,  but  was  dismissed  by  Queen  Caroline. 

2  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu's  Letters  and  Works.    Edited  by 
Lord  Wharncliffe. 


address  was  presented  to  the  King,  and  the  Lord 
Mayor's  Show  was  conducted  on  a  scale  of  unpre- 
cedented splendour.  The  King  and  Queen  attended 
in  state  the  banquet  at  the  Guildhall,  and  some  idea 
of  the  entertainment  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact 
that  two  hundred  and  seventy-nine  dishes  adorned 
the  feast,  and  the  cost  amounted  to  ,£5,000. 

When  the  excitement  and  loyal  emotions  called 
forth  by  the  coronation  had  subsided  the  English 
people  were  better  able  to  take  the  measure  of  their 
second  King  from  Hanover.  The  process  of  dis- 
illusion soon  set  in.  George  the  Second  had  even 
fewer  good  qualities  than  his  father.  On  the 
battlefield,  like  all  princes  of  his  house,  he  had 
shown  physical  courage,  though  he  had  no  claim  to 
generalship.  He  had  a  certain  shrewdness  and  a 
vein  of  caution  which  kept  him  from  committing 
any  flagrant  errors,  however  foolishly  he  might  talk. 
But  this  was  the  most  that  could  be  said  in  his 
favour.  He  was  vain  and  pompous,  mean,  spiteful 
and  avaricious.  All  he  cared  for,  it  was  said,  was 
"money  and  Hanover".  He  neither  spoke  nor 
acted  like  a  King,  and  his  small  mind  was  incapable 
of  rising  to  the  height  of  his  position.  If  he  were 
straightforward  it  was  because  he  was  too  stupid 
to  dissemble,  and  if  he  seldom  lied  it  was  because 
it  involved  too  great  a  strain  upon  his  narrow 
imagination.  On  the  surface  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  imagine  two  persons  more  unsympathetic 
than  the  King  and  Queen,  yet  the  fact  remains 
that  they  were  devoted  to  one  another.  George 


knew  that  his  consort  was  absolutely  loyal  to  his 
interests,  and  in  the  great  loneliness  that  sur- 
rounds a  throne  he  could  appreciate  the  benefit 
of  having  one  disinterested  person  whom  he  could 
trust  and  in  whom  he  could  confide.  In  his  heart 
of  hearts  he  knew  that  his  Queen  was  infinitely  his 
superior,  though  he  would  never  admit  it  to  himself, 
to  her,  or  least  of  all  to  the  world.  Yet  in  public 
affairs  she  swayed  him  as  she  would. 

From  the  time  that  Caroline  became  Queen, 
until  her  death,  she  governed  England  with  Wai- 
pole  ;  she  did  not  merely  reign  but  she  ruled,  and 
though  she  was  only  Queen  Consort,  admitted  by 
the  English  Constitution  to  no  share  in  affairs  of 
state,  yet  practically  she  was  Queen  Regnant,  and 
a  more  powerful  one  than  any  England  had  known 
except  Elizabeth.  Caroline  regarded  Elizabeth  as 
her  great  exemplar,  and  resembled  her  in  many 
ways — in  her  love  of  dominion,  her  jealousy  of  any 
rival  near  her  throne,  her  diplomatic  abilities,  her 
breadth  of  view  in  matters  of  religion,  her  contempt 
for  trivialities,  and  her  superiority  to  mere  conven- 
tion. She  differed  from  Elizabeth  in  that  she  had 
a  good  heart,  and  though  she  loved  to  rule,  she 
was  neither  tyrannical  nor  despotic.  Elizabeth  ex- 
ercised her  power  directly,  appropriating  even  the 
credit  due  to  her  Ministers  ;  Caroline's  power  was 
indirect  and  found  its  way  through  tortuous  channels. 
The  extent  of  her  power,  though  suspected,  was 
never  fully  realised  during  her  lifetime,  except  by 
a  few  persons  such  as  Lord  Hervey,  who  came  into 


daily  contact  with  her,  and  of  course  Walpole. 
Caroline  had  to  be  careful  not  to  arouse  the  King's 
jealousy,  for,  like  many  weak  men,  he  loved  the 
outward  semblance  of  authority,  and  this  the  Queen 
was  more  than  ready  to  yield  him.  The  King  could 
have  all  the  show  provided  she  had  the  substance. 

The  Queen  and  Walpole  soon  came  to  an 
understanding,  and  in  the  governing  of  the  King  and 
the  kingdom  they  worked  in  accord.  The  Prime 
Minister  discussed  fully  with  her  affairs  of  state,  and 
together  they  planned  what  should  be  done.  When 
everything  was  settled  between  them,  Caroline 
undertook  to  bring  the  King  round  to  their  way 
of  thinking.  This  process  generally  took  place  in 
private,  but  sometimes,  if  the  matter  were  urgent, 
Caroline  and  Walpole  would  play  into  each  other's 
hands  in  another  way.  The  Prime  Minister  would 
have  a  conference  with  the  Queen  over-night,  and 
the  next  morning,  when  he  was  summoned  by  the 
King,  Caroline  would,  as  if  by  accident,  enter  the 
royal  closet.  She  would  make  a  deep  obeisance 
and  humbly  offer  to  withdraw.  The  King  would 
tell  her  to  stay  ;  she  would  take  a  chair,  occupy 
herself  with  knotting  or  something  of  the  kind,  and 
apparently  take  no  interest  in  the  conversation. 
The  King  would  ask  her  opinion.  "  I  understand 
nothing  of  politics,  your  Majesty  knows  all,"  she 
would  modestly  answer.  Delighted  with  this  tribute 
to  his  powers  George  would  press  for  an  answer  to 
his  question,  and  then  the  game  of  hoodwink  would 
begin.  From  certain  secret  signs  agreed  upon 


between  her  and  Walpole,  the  Queen  spoke  or  was 
silent,  gave  a  qualified  opinion  or  expressed  herself 
plainly.  It  was  all  so  well  managed  that  neither 
the  King  nor  other  ministers  present,  if  there  were 
any,  noticed  the  least  thing.  Walpole  played  with 
his  hat,  fidgeted  with  his  sword,  took  snuff,  pulled 
out  his  pocket  handkerchief  or  plaited  his  shirt 
frill  :  each  detail  of  this  dumb  show  had  its  secret 
meaning.  This  farce  was  played  not  once  but 
many  times,  over  and  over  again,  and  though  the 
means  were  sorry  enough,  the  end  was  the  good 
of  the  nation.  The  personal  rule  of  the  monarch 
as  it  had  existed  in  the  days  of  the  Stuarts  was 
gone  for  ever ;  still  the  King  was  a  force  to  be 
reckoned  with,  and,  in  foreign  politics  especially, 
Walpole  would  have  found  the  choleric  little  George 
a  terrible  stumbling-block  in  his  path  had  it  not  been 
that  the  Queen  bent  him  to  her  will.  The  King 
would  often  announce  his  intention  of  doing  some- 
thing incredibly  foolish,  she  would  apparently  agree 
with  him,  yet  before  long  she  would  bring  him 
round  to  her  point  of  view,  though  it  was  in  flat 
contradiction  to  his  first  declaration.  When  the 
King  set  his  face  against  a  certain  plan  of  the  Prime 
Minister's  or  a  certain  appointment,  Walpole  would 
leave  the  matter  in  the  Queen's  hands,  and  by  and 
by  the  King  would  suggest  to  him  the  very  policy 
or  appointment  he  had  opposed,  as  though  it  were 
an  idea  of  his  own.  Caroline  talked  her  sentiments 
into  her  husband's  mind  and  he  reproduced  them 
as  faithfully  as  words  talked  into  a  phonograph. 


In  public  the  Queen  was  always  obedient,  and  her 
manner  to  the  King  was  submission  itself.  "  She 
managed  this  deified  image,"  says  Lord  Hervey, 
"  as  the  heathen  priests  used  to  do  the  oracles  of 
old,  when,  kneeling  and  prostrate  before  the  altars 
of  a  pageant  god,  they  received  with  the  greatest 
devotion  and  reverence  those  directions  in  public 
which  they  had  before  instilled  and  regulated  in 
private.  And  as  these  idols  consequently  were 
only  propitious  to  the  favourites  of  the  augurers, 
so  nobody  who  had  not  tampered  with  our  chief 
priestess  ever  received  a  favourable  answer  from 
our  god  ;  storms  and  thunder  greeted  every  votary 
that  entered  the  temple  without  her  protection ; 
calms  and  sunshine  those  who  obtained  it."  The 
most  farcical  thing  about  it  was  that  the  little 
domestic  tyrant  took  all  this  homage  as  his  due, 
and  to  hear  him  talk  his  courtiers  might  think  that 
he  was  as  despotic  as  the  Caesars  and  as  autocratic 
as  the  Tsar.  On  one  occasion  his  mind  ran  back 
over  English  history  (with  which,  by  the  way,  he 
was  imperfectly  acquainted),  and  he  recalled  his 
predecessors  on  the  throne  and  contrasted  them 
unfavourably  with  himself.  To  quote  the  same 
authority:  "Charles  I.,"  he  said,  "was  governed 
by  his  wife;  Charles  II.  by  his  mistresses;  James 
II.  by  his  priests;  William  III.  by  his  men;  and 
Queen  Anne  by  her  women-favourites.  His  father, 
he  added,  had  been  by  anyone  that  could  get  at 
him.  And  at  the  end  of  this  compendious  history 
of  our  great  and  wise  monarchs,  with  a  significant, 


satisfied,  triumphant  air,  he  turned  about  smiling  to 
one  of  his  auditors,  and  asked  him — '  And  who  do 
they  say  governs  now  ?  ' ' 

The  courtier,  we  may  be  sure,  was  too  discreet 
to  say,  but  ill-affected  persons  blurted  out  the  truth, 
and  the  disaffected  journals,  from  the  Craftsman 
downwards,  railed  at  Walpole  for  having  bought 
the  Queen,  and  at  the  King  for  being  governed  by 
her.  This  was  repeated  over  and  over  again  in 
ribald  verse  of  which  the  following  will  serve  as  a 
specimen  : — 

You  may  strut,  dapper  George,  but  'twill  all  be  in  vain ; 
We  know  'tis  Queen  Caroline,  not  you,  that  reign — 
You  govern  no  more  than  Don  Philip  of  Spain. 
Then  if  you  would  have  us  fall  down  and  adore  you, 
Lock  up  your  fat  spouse,  as  your  dad  did  before  you. 

The  Queen  and  Walpole  were  always  striving  to 
keep  these  lampoons  away  from  the  King,  but 
some  one  about  the  court,  probably  in  the  apart- 
ments of  Mrs.  Howard,  told  him  of  the  existence  of 
this  one,  and  he  was  exceedingly  annoyed.  He 
asked  Lord  Scarborough  if  he  had  seen  it.  Scar- 
borough admitted  that  he  had.  George  then  asked 
him  who  had  shown  it  to  him,  but  he  said  he  had 
pledged  his  honour  not  to  tell.  The  King  flew 
into  a  passion,  and  said  :  "  Had  I  been  Lord  Scar- 
borough in  this  situation  and  you  King,  the  man 
would  have  shot  me,  or  I  him,  who  had  dared  to 
affront  me,  in  the  person  of  my  master,  by  showing 
me  such  insolent  nonsense ".  Scarborough  replied 
that  he  had  not  said  it  was  a  man  who  had  shown  it 
to  him,  which  made  the  King,  who  regarded  this  as 


a  pitiful  evasion,  angrier  than  ever.  By  way  of 
showing  his  independence  the  King  for  some  time 
after  was  more  than  usually  testy  with  the  Queen, 
contradicting  her  flatly  before  all  the  court  whenever 
she  ventured  an  opinion,  snubbing  her  unmercifully, 
pooh-poohing  her  wishes,  and  generally  treating  her 
with  almost  brutal  rudeness.  The  Queen  received 
this  with  meekness,  and  abased  herself  before  the 
King  more  than  ever.  But  all  the  while  her  power 

Soon  after  the  coronation  the  country  was 
plunged  into  a  general  election.  The  Jacobites 
came  off  very  badly  at  the  polls,  and  the  Tories 
little  better.  Even  with  the  aid  of  the  malcontent 
Whigs,  the  Opposition  made  a  poor  muster  in  point 
of  numbers,  and  when  the  new  Parliament  met  in 
January,  1728,  the  Ministerial  majority  was  even 
greater  than  in  the  last  reign.  Walpole  had  won 
all  along  the  line.  The  result  no  doubt  was  largely 
due  to  the  way  in  which  the  Government  had  bought 
owners  of  pocket  boroughs,  and  to  the  wholesale 
bribery  wherewith  its  agents  seduced  the  voters ; 
under  such  a  system  of  corruption  it  was  impossible 
for  the  voice  of  the  nation  to  make  itself  effectually 
heard.  Even  many  of  those  members  of  Parliament 
who  were  returned  to  the  House  of  Commons  in 
opposition  to  Walpole  were  eventually  bought  by 
him.  "Every  man  has  his  price"  was  his  cynical 
maxim,  and  he  acted  upon  it  so  thoroughly  that  his 
name  became  a  byword  for  corruption.  True,  the 
standard  of  political  morality  was  not  high  in  those 


days,  the  party  in  power,  whether  Whig  or  Tory, 
frequently  abused  the  public  trust  and  misused 
the  public  money.  But  it  remained  for  Walpole 
•to  bring  organised  corruption  to  such  a  pitch  that 
it  paralysed  popular  government,  and  placed  the 
balance  of  power,  neither  in  the  Sovereign,  nor  in 
the  people,  but  in  the  hands  of  a  Whig  oligarchy. 
Such  an  oligarchy  was  at  this  period  synonymous 
with  Walpole  himself,  for  the  great  Minister  brooked 
no  rivals  in  the  King's  (or  rather  in  the  Queen's) 
councils.  "  Sir  Robert,"  said  the  shrewd  old  Sarah 
of  Marlborough,  "  likes  none  but  fools  and  such  as 
have  lost  all  credit."  His  earlier  Administrations 
had  included  a  few  strong  men,  but  one  by  one  they 
had  to  go,  unable  to  work  with  so  jealous  and 
domineering  a  chief.  By  bribery  Walpole  also  re- 
duced Parliament  to  such  a  condition  of  impotence 
that  it  was  hardly  more  to  be  reckoned  with  than 
the  King.  The  Prime  Minister  had  really  no  one 
to  consider  but  the  Queen,  with  whom  he  had  a 
perfect  understanding. 

Thus  did  Caroline  and  Walpole  rule  England. 
The  means  whereby  they  ruled  were  tainted  at  the 
source  ;  the  end  may,  or  may  not,  have  justified  the 
means,  but  at  this  distance  of  time,  when  the  fierce 
controversies  which  gathered  around  Walpole's 
policy  have  passed  into  history,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  the  results  were  good.  England  was  sick  unto 
death  of  internal  and  external  strife,  what  she  needed 
was  a  strong  hand  at  the  helm  and  a  settled  govern- 
ment, and  under  Caroline  and  Walpole  she  secured 

From  the  Painting  by  J.  B.  Van  Loo  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 


both,  and  ten  years  of  peace  abroad  and  plenty  at 
home  in  addition.  This  long  peace  enabled  Eng- 
land to  recover  herself  within  her  borders  ;  British 
credit,  which  had  sunk  to  zero,  rose  higher  than  it 
had  been  for  years,  trade  and  commerce  increased, 
land  went  up  in  value,  wheat  became  cheaper,  and 
everywhere  signs  of  prosperity  were  manifest.  By 
degrees,  and  it  was  here  that  Caroline's  tact  came 
in,  the  different  classes  of  the  community  were  re- 
conciled to  the  Hanoverian  dynasty ;  the  Church 
and  the  country  squires  held  out  the  longest,  but 
though  they  retained  a  tender  sentiment  for  the 
exiled  Stuarts  they  came  in  some  vague  way  to 
connect  their  material  prosperity  with  the  mainten- 
ance of  the  Hanoverian  regime.  This  result  was 
not  achieved  without  some  loss,  chiefly  to  be  found 
in  the  lowering  of  the  old  ideals.  The  clergy,  from 
causes  on  which  we  shall  dwell  more  fully  later,  be- 
came indifferent,  and  the  Church  sank  into  apathy  ; 
the  country  gentry  lost,  together  with  their  old 
passionate  loyalty  to  the  King,  some  of  their  sense 
of  personal  responsibility  towards  their  poorer  neigh- 
bours, and  took  a  lower  view  of  their  duties  to 
the  State.  Much  of  the  grossness  and  selfishness 
which  disfigured  the  eighteenth  century  was  due  to 
an  excess  of  material  prosperity,  and  a  consequent 
lowering  of  ideals  in  our  national  life. 

Very  soon  the  King,  who  when  Prince  of  Wales 
had  always  posed  as  English  in  all  his  sentiments, 
began  his  father's  game  of  sacrificing  English  in- 
terests to  those  of  Hanover.  So  subservient  was 


the  new  House  of  Commons,  and  so  unscrupulous 
were  Walpole's  tactics,  that  only  eighty-four  mem- 
bers were  found  to  vote  against  a  proposal  to  pay 
,£280,000  to  maintain  Hessian  troops  for  the  benefit 
of  Hanover ;  and  the  subsidy  of  .£25,000  a  year  for 
four  years  to  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbiittel,  in  return 
for  his  promise  to  furnish  troops  for  a  similar 
purpose,  was  passed  with  very  little  opposition.  The 
maintenance  of  the  Hessian  troops  was  part  of  the 
price  Walpole  had  to  pay  the  King  for  preferring 
him  to  Compton,  and  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbiittel's 
subsidy  was  hush-money  pure  and  simple,  paid  for 
his  handing  over  the  late  King's  will. 

Though  the  Opposition  was  weak  in  numbers, 
and  suffered  from  a  lack  of  cohesion  in  its  different 
groups,  it  was  strong  in  the  quality  of  its  individual 
members.  Pulteney  headed  the  opposition  to  Wal- 
pole in  the  House  of  Commons,  more  especially 
that  part  of  it  which  included  the  malcontent  Whigs 
and  the  more  moderate  Tories  who  supported  the 
Hanoverian  succession.  It  was  Bolingbroke  who 
built  up  this  party,  and  he  invented  for  it  the  name 
of  "  Patriots  ".  Carteret,  and  later  Chesterfield,  were 
among  its  leading  lights,  but  Pulteney  was  the  chief. 
This  remarkable  man  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  and 
endowed  with  natural  and  acquired  advantages.  He 
was  of  good  birth,  and  the  owner  of  great  wealth  ; 
he  had  a  handsome  person,  a  dignified  manner  and 
a  cultured  mind.  His  wit  and  scholarship  almost 
rivalled  Bolingbroke's,  and  as  an  orator  he  had  few 
equals,  and  no  superior,  in  his  generation.  Pulteney 's 


abilities  as  a  statesman  were  of  the  highest  order  ; 
he  had  been  a  colleague  of  Walpole  in  earlier  days, 
and  stood  by  him  in  many  a  hard  fought  fight  He 
had  therefore  the  strongest  claims  for  place.  But 
Walpole,  jealous  of  Pulteney's  powers,  passed  him 
over  for  Cabinet  office  and  offered  him  a  minor  post 
in  the  Government,  and  a  peerage.  The  latter  was 
refused,  the  former  accepted  for  a  time,  but  Pulteney 
soon  resigned  and  went  into  active  opposition.  He 
joined  forces  with  Bolingbroke,  and  the  first  fruit 
of  their  union  was  the  Craftsman,  a  journal  which 
fiercely  attacked  Walpole  and  his  policy,  the  second 
was  the  formation  of  the  Patriots'  party.  Boling- 
broke, though  still  excluded  from  the  House  of 
Lords,  was  able  through  the  medium  of  the  Craftsman 
to  address  himself  to  the  wider  constituency  of  the 
nation.  His  articles  against  his  lifelong  enemy  were 
masterpieces  of  damaging  criticism  and  polished 
invective.  Besides  Bolingbroke,  the  ablest  political 
writers  of  the  day  contributed  to  the  Craftsman. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  of  the  Opposition 
was  the  fact  that  it  included  men  who,  though 
differing  widely  among  themselves,  were  united  in 
common  hatred  of  W7alpole.  There  became  prac- 
tically only  two  parties  in  the  State,  those  who  were 
for  Walpole  and  those  who  were  against  him  ;  and 
the  differences  between  malcontent  Whig  and  Tory, 
Jacobite  and  Hanoverian,  sank  into  comparative 
insignificance.  Thus  Pulteney  and  Carteret  were 
staunch  Hanoverians  and  Whigs,  Barnard  was  a 

Hanoverian  Tory,  Wyndham  a  Tory  with  Jacobite 
VOL.  n.  4 


leanings,  and  Shippen  a  Jacobite  out  and  out  ; 
Bolingbroke  stood  among  these  parties,  partaking 
a  little  of  them  all,  and  concentrating  into  himself 
the  essence  of  their  hatred  of  Walpole. 

No  English  Minister  has  ever  been  hated  more 
than  Walpole  and  none  has  had  abler  foes.  The  com- 
bination of  two  such  master-minds  as  Bolingbroke  and 
Pulteney  would,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  have 
broken  down  any  Minister.  But  the  circumstances 
were  not  ordinary,  and  no  statesman  was  more  suc- 
cessful than  Walpole  in  overcoming  his  enemies. 
His  success  was  largely  due  to  the  steady  support  he 
received  from  the  Queen.  To  her  wise  counsels  was 
also  something  due.  Walpole  now  refrained  from 
violent  measures  against  his  political  opponents,  even 
under  intense  provocation.  Hitherto  in  English 
politics  the  party  in  power  had  consistently  persecuted 
the  party  in  the  minority.  But  now  a  new  era  set 
in  ;  it  was  possible  to  oppose  a  powerful  Minister 
and  yet  not  be  sent  to  the  Tower  or  impeached  as 
a  traitor.  This  more  generous  policy  may  be  directly 
traced  to  Queen  Caroline,  for  Walpole  in  George 
the  First's  reign  had  been  anything  but  conciliatory, 
and  no  Minister  had  urged  more  fiercely  than  he  the 
impeachment,  the  exile,  and  even  the  death  of  his 
political  opponents.  It  was  he  who  had  clamoured 
for  the  execution  of  the  Jacobite  peers.  But  Caroline 
now  exercised  a  restraining  hand.  During  her  ten 
years  of  queenship  great  freedom  of  speech  was 
allowed  in  Parliament  and  outside  it,  and  the  widest 
liberty  was  given  to  the  press.  Impeachment,  fining 


and  imprisonment  of  politicians  in  opposition  to  the 
Government  were  things  unheard  of,  and  Caroline 
was  careful  to  conciliate,  or  to  endeavour  to  con- 
ciliate, such  members  of  the  Opposition  as  were 
loyal,  or  professed  themselves  to  be  loyal,  to  the 
Hanoverian  dynasty.  She  remained  on  good  terms 
with  John,  Duke  of  Argyll,  who  had  been  the 
King's  favourite  when  he  was  Prince  of  Wales,  but 
who  had  now  gone  into  the  cold  shade  of  Opposition, 
and  resigned  all  his  offices  about  the  court.  She 
even  received  Pulteney  much  against  Walpole's  wish, 
and  she  had  a  smile  and  a  gracious  word  for  many 
of  the  Patriots  when  they  came  her  way,  always 
excepting  Bolingbroke,  whom  she  never  would  ad- 
mit to  the  least  atom  of  her  favour.  In  Caroline's 
wise  policy  may  be  seen  the  germs  of  that  strict 
impartiality  which  the  Sovereign  ought  to  show 
towards  prominent  statesmen,  whether  they  are  in 
office  or  in  opposition.  This  has  now  become  almost 
an  unwritten  law  of  the  English  Constitution. 

In  a  far  lesser  degree  Caroline's  influence  may 
also  be  traced  in  the  way  in  which  Walpole,  though 
possessing  the  power  to  force  through  Parliament  any 
measure  he  would,  refrained  from  running  counter 
to  the  popular  will,  when  that  will  was  unmistakably 
declared.  True,  here  his  own  inherent  statesman- 
ship came  in,  and  counselled  moderation.  But 
Caroline  also  had  theories  about  the  popular  will 
and  civil  liberty  which  she  had  acquired  in  her 
youth  from  Sophie  Charlotte  of  Prussia,  the  "  Re- 
publican Queen,"  and  this  at  least  may  be  claimed 


for  her,  that  she  taught  Walpole  the  art  of  making 
his  concessions  gracefully.  Her  love  of  liberty  in 
matters  of  religion  showed  itself  in  the  zeal  with 
which  she  urged  indulgence  to  Protestant  dissenters  ; 
the  time  was  not  supposed  to  be  ripe  for  the  repeal 
of  the  penal  laws  against  them,  but  annual  Acts 
of  Indemnity  were  passed  which  practically  gave 
them  the  relief  they  desired,  and  drew  the  fangs 
of  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts.  Caroline's 
power  was  most  noticeable  in  the  dispensing  of 
patronage ;  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  in 
all  the  ten  years  she  was  Queen  no  important 
appointment,  either  in  Church  or  State,  was  made 
without  her  having  some  voice  in  it.  In  this  transi- 
tion period  the  judicious  distribution  of  patronage 
influenced  largely  the  future  of  the  nation,  and 
the  Queen,  who  saw  further  ahead  than  most  of  her 
contemporaries,  was  fully  conscious  of  its  importance. 
Thus  this  princess,  who  little  more  than  a  decade 
before  was  a  stranger  to  the  English  laws  and  con- 
stitution, was  able  to  shape  and  guide  the  destinies 
of  England. 




THE  court  of  King  George  the  Second  and  Queen 
Caroline  was  conducted  on  a  larger  scale  than 
any  court  England  had  known  since  the  days  of 
Charles  the  Second,  though  it  lacked  much  of 
the  gaiety  and  more  of  the  grace  that  enlivened 
and  adorned  the  court  of  the  Merry  Monarch. 
George  the  Second  was  a  great  lover  of  show,  but 
he  had  neither  wit  nor  good  taste,  and  when  he 
assumed  the  crown  he  seemed  to  think  that  he 
ought  also  to  assume  a  stiffness  and  pomposity  of 
manner  to  maintain  his  regal  dignity.  Like  all 
German  princes  he  was  a  great  stickler  for 
etiquette,  and  he  modelled  his  court  not  only  on 
Versailles,  which  then  served  as  a  pattern  for  all 
the  courts  of  Europe,  but  imported  to  it  some  of  the 
dulness  of  Herrenhausen,  and  further  regulated  it 
with  strict  regard  to  English  precedents  in  previous 
reigns.  The  court  officials  were  often  very  hard  put 
to  it  to  unearth  them.  But  the  King  was  ex- 
ceedingly precise  and  resented  the  most  trifling 
breach  of  etiquette  as  a  reflection  on  his  royal 
dignity.  He  was  a  great  authority  on  dress  and  cere- 
monial ;  he  could  tell  to  a  hair's-breadth  the  precise 


width  of  the  gold  braid  which  should  adorn  the  coat 
of  a  gentleman  of  the  bed-chamber,  and  recall  with 
accuracy  the  number  of  buttons  required  for  the 
vest  of  a  page  of  the  backstairs.  The  Queen  en- 
couraged and  applauded  his  bent  in  this  direction  ; 
it  occupied  his  mind  and  left  her  free  to  arrange 
with  Walpole  the  weightier  affairs  of  the  nation. 

Leicester  House  was  given  up  and  the  court 
made  St.  James's  Palace  its  headquarters  in  London. 
All  the  Hanoverian  mistresses  and  favourites  who 
had  occupied  apartments  there  during  the  last 
reign  were  turned  out  without  ceremony.  The 
court  of  Queen  Caroline  was  more  select  than  that 
of  George  the  First.  Drunkenness  was  still  a  venial 
offence,  but  it  was  not  approved  of  in  the  royal 
presence,  and  women  of  notoriously  ill  repute  were 
no  longer  received  at  St.  James's.  When  the 
court  was  at  St.  James's,  drawing-rooms  were  held 
several  times  a  week,  public  days  as  they  were 
called,  and  the  King  and  Queen  gave  frequent 
audiences  besides.  Court  balls  often  took  place, 
and  at  the  evening  drawing-rooms  cards  and  high 
play  were  still  in  vogue.  Every  movement  of  the 
King  and  Queen  in  public  was  made  the  occasion 
of  ceremonial  ;  they  attended  divine  service  at 
the  Chapel  Royal  in  state ;  they  walked  in  St. 
James's  Park  followed  by  a  numerous  suite,  the 
way  kept  clear  by  guards ;  they  seldom  drove 
out  unless  preceded  by  an  escort ;  their  visits  to  the 
theatre  or  opera  were  always  announced  beforehand, 
and  their  coming  and  going  made  the  occasion  of  a 


spectacle.  The  people,  with  whom  the  pomp  and 
circumstance  of  Royalty  is  always  popular,  loved 
these  sights  mightily,  and  all  classes  were  pleased 
that  there  was  once  more  a  court  in  London. 
The  King  and  Queen  also  revived  the  custom  of 
dining  in  public  on  Sundays.  One  of  the  large 
state  rooms  of  St.  James's  Palace  was  set  apart 
for  the  occasion,  and  at  a  flourish  of  trumpets  the 
King  and  Queen  and  the  Royal  Family  entered  and 
sat  down  to  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room  sur- 
rounded by  the  officers  of  the  household.  The 
courses  were  served  with  much  ceremony  on  bended 
knee.  The  table  was  decked  with  magnificent  plate 
and  a  band  played  during  dinner.  The  enclosure 
was  railed  around,  and  the  public  were  admitted 
by  ticket,  and  allowed  to  stand  behind  the  barriers 
and  watch  the  royal  personages  eat,  a  privilege  of 
which  they  freely  availed  themselves.  After  dinner 
the  King  and  Queen  withdrew  to  their  apartments, 
their  going,  as  their  coming,  being  made  the  occasion 
of  a  procession. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  new  King  and  Queen 
was  to  make  a  tour  of  the  royal  palaces,  which  had 
been  practically  closed  to  them  since  their  rupture 
with  George  the  First.  The  old  King  had  disliked 
Windsor  and  rarely  went  there,  its  grandeur  op- 
pressed him,  and  he  and  his  German  mistresses 
felt  out  of  their  element  in  a  place  steeped  in 
traditions  essentially  English.  George  the  Second 
did  not  care  for  Windsor  any  more  than  his 
sire,  and  excused  himself  from  going  there  often 


on  the  ground  that  it  was  too  far  from  London. 
He  visited  the  castle  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
hunting  in  the  forest.  But  Caroline  loved  royal 
Windsor  greatly,  and  used  to  go  there  during  the 
King's  absences  at  Hanover.  In  one  of  the 
recesses  of  the  picture  gallery,  now  the  library, 
she  arranged  an  extensive  and  valuable  collection 
of  china ;  the  collection  was  afterwards  dispersed, 
but  some  of  the  china  remains  at  Windsor  Castle 
until  this  day,  and  is  the  only  relic  of  Queen 
Caroline's  occupation.1 

The  King  and  Queen  paid  their  first  visit  to 
Windsor  in  the  autumn  of  1728,  and  great  pre- 
parations were  made  to  welcome  them  to  the  royal 
borough.  "  Last  Saturday,"  we  read,  "  when  their 
Majesties  arrived  at  Windsor,  the  Mayor,  aldermen, 
and  capital  burgesses  were  ready  in  their  formalities 
to  receive  them,  and  the  balconies  were  hung  with 
tapestry  and  vast  crowds  of  spectators,  but  their 
Majesties  came  the  Park  way.  The  King  and 
Queen  walked  in  the  Park  till  dinner  time.  The 
next  day  their  Majesties  dined  in  public,  when  all 
the  country  people,  whether  in,  or  out  of,  mourning, 
were  permitted  to  see  them.":  On  this  occasion 
George  the  Second  assumed  his  stall  in  St.  George's 
Chapel  as  Sovereign  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter, 
and  made  his  offering  at  the  altar.  The  Queen, 

1  After   Queen    Caroline's    death    George    II.  rarely  went    to 
Windsor,  and    so    neglected    the    Castle    that   when   George   III. 
ascended  the  throne  it  was  found  to  be  in  a  ruinous  condition. 

2  Stamford  Mercury,  igth  September,  1728. 


with  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  Princess  Royal, 
and  the  Princesses  Caroline,  Mary  and  Louisa,  were 
present,  and  the  Queen  was  seated  under  a  canopy 
erected  on  the  south  side  of  the  choir.  A  ball  was 
given  in  the  evening.  The  royal  pair  hunted  the 
stag  in  Windsor  Forest  frequently  during  the  visit, 
and  on  one  occasion  remained  out  until  nine  o'clock 
at  night,  and  on  another  hunted  all  day  through  the 
rain,  chasing  the  stag  as  far  as  Weybridge.  The 
Queen  followed  the  hounds  in  a  chaise  with  one 
horse,  in  the  same  way  that  Queen  Anne  used  to 
hunt  in  Windsor  Forest.  During  their  sojourn  at 
Windsor  the  King  and  Queen  received  one  Mrs. 
Joy,  "  a  widow  lady  in  the  ninety-fourth  year  of 
her  age,  who  had  kissed  Charles  the  First's  hand  ; 
she  was  very  graciously  received  'V  The  Queen 
celebrated  her  first  visit  to  Windsor  by  giving  ^350 
at  Christmas  for  releasing  insolvent  debtors  confined 
in  the  town  and  castle  gaol — her  favourite  form  of 
charity.  The  prisoners,  to  the  number  of  sixteen, 
were  set  free. 

Kensington  was  George  the  Second's  favourite 
palace,  as  it  had  been  his  father's.  King  George 
the  First  rebuilt  the  eastern  front  and  added  the 
cupola.  He  also  improved  the  interior,  notably 
by  making  the  grand  staircase.  Then,  as  now, 
Kensington  Palace  was  an  irregular  building  with 
little  pretence  to  beauty  and  none  to  grandeur. 
But  our  first  Hanoverian  kings  loved  it  ;  its 
homeliness  reminded  them  of  Herrenhausen.  The 

1  Daily  Post,  zyth  December,  1728. 


Kensington  promenades  were  now  revived,  and 
the  King  and  Queen  accompanied  by  the  Royal 
Family  would  pace  down  the  walks  between  an 
avenue  of  bowing  and  smiling  courtiers.  Through- 
out this  reign,  and  far  into  the  next,  Kensington 
Gardens  formed  a  fashionable  resort,  and  with 
the  promenades  are  associated  many  of  the  great 
names  of  the  eighteenth  century.  People  were 
admitted  to  the  gardens  by  ticket  obtainable  through 
the  Lord  Chamberlain.  Thus  the  promenades 
developed  into  a  sort  of  informal  court  and  were 
much  resorted  to  by  persons  who  did  not  attend 
drawing-rooms  and  levies  in  the  ordinary  way, 
as  well  as  by  those  who  did.  The  King  and  the 
Queen  on  these  morning  walks  would  make  many 
a  person  happy  by  singling  him  out  from  the  crowd 
with  a  bow,  a  smile,  or  the  honour  of  a  few  words  ; 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  they  would  plunge  many 
an  aspirant  to  Court  favour  into  gloom  by  ignoring 
him.  The  origin  of  these  promenades  may  be 
traced  to  the  daily  walks  of  the  Electress  Sophia 
in  the  gardens  of  Herrenhausen,  when  she  used 
to  give  audience  to  her  supporters.  Like  the  old 
Electress,  her  grandson  and  his  Queen  were  great 
walkers.  The  little  King  used  to  walk  very  fast, 
with  a  curious  strutting  step,  and  generally  forged 
ahead,  leaving  his  taller  and  stouter  consort  to  pant 
along  behind  him.  In  a  political  skit  of  the  day 
there  is  an  amusing  reference  to  Caroline's  custom 
of  dropping  behind  her  husband.  It  is  headed  : 
"  Supposed  to  be  written  on  account  of  three  gentlemen 


being  seen  in  Kensington  Gardens  by  the  King  and 
Queen  while  they  were  walking".  It  was  written 
either  by  Pulteney  or  Chesterfield,  and  these  two 
were  doubtless  represented  in  it,  the  third  being 
Wyndham  or  Bolingbroke.  "  The  great  river 
Euphrates  "  is  the  Serpentine,  which  Caroline  created 
out  of  a  string  of  ponds.  It  runs  : — 

"  Now  it  came  to  pass  in  the  days  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, the  King  of  Babylon,  in  the  eighth  month, 
of  the  sixth  year,  the  beginning  of  hay  harvest, 
that  the  King  and  Queen  walked  arm  in  arm 
in  the  gardens  which  they  had  planted  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  the  great  river  Euphrates,  and 
behold  there  appeared  on  the  sudden  three  men, 
sons  of  the  giants.  Then  Nebuchadnezzar  the  King 
lifted  up  his  voice  and  cried  :  '  Oh  men  of  war,  who 
be  ye,  who  be  ye,  and  is  it  peace  ? '  They  answered 
him  not.  Then  spake  he  and  said :  '  There  is 
treachery,  oh  my  Queen,  there  is  treachery,'  and 
he  turned  his  face  and  fled.  Now  when  the  Queen 
had  seen  what  had  befallen  the  King  she  girt  up 
her  loins  and  fled  also,  crying  :  '  Oh  my  God  ! '  So 
the  King  and  Queen  ran  together,  but  the  King 
outran  her  mightily,  for  he  ran  very  swiftly  ;  neither 
turned  he  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  for  he  was 
sore  afraid  where  no  fear  was,  and  fled  when  no  man 

The  King  and  Queen  probably  saw  Pulteney, 
Chesterfield  and  Bolingbroke  coming  towards  them, 
and  as  they  were  no  doubt  just  then  opposing  some 
pet  measure  of  Walpole  and  of  the  court,  the  King 


not  wishing  to  receive  their  salutations,  and  not  caring 
to  ignore  them,  turned  on  his  heel,  and,  followed 
by  the  Queen,  hurried  off  as  fast  as  he  could. 

Richmond  Lodge  had  now  become  Caroline's 
personal  property,  and  the  Queen  continued  to  be 
very  fond  of  it,  and  spent  large  sums  of  money  in 
enlarging  the  gardens.  Soon  after  Caroline  became 
Queen  she  gave  ^500  for  railing  and  improving 
Richmond  Green,  and  we  read  :  "  A  subscription 
is  set  on  foot  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  town 
of  Richmond  for  erecting  the  effigy  of  her  Majesty 
in  the  middle  of  the  green".1  But  this  intention 
was  apparently  never  carried  out.  The  Queen  also 
had  a  cottage  at  Kew  where  she  often  drove  to 
breakfast  from  Richmond.  She  gave  the  use  of  it  to 
her  favourite,  Mrs.  Clayton,  afterwards  Lady  Sun- 

Hampton  Court,  more  than  any  other  royal 
palace,  has  memories  of  Queen  Caroline,  and  many 
of  its  rooms  remain  to  this  day  much  as  she  left  them. 
The  Queen's  dressing-room  is  almost  the  same  as  it 
was  one  hundred  and  seventy  years  ago  ;  her  high 
marble  bath  on  one  side  of  the  room  may  still  be 
seen,  and  on  the  other  side  is  the  door  that  led  to 
her  private  chapel.  Under  Caroline's  supervision 
Hampton  Court  was  altered  in  many  ways,  and  in 
some  improved.  The  great  staircase  was  completed 
and  decorated  ;  the  Queen's  presence  chamber  and 
the  guard  chamber  were  altered  in  a  way  charac- 
teristic of  the  early  Georgian  period.  The  public 

1  Country  Journal,  22nd  June,  1728. 


dining  room,  which  is  one  of  the  finest  rooms  in  the 
palace,  was  also  redecorated,  and  the  massive  chimney- 
piece  of  white  marble  which  bears  the  arms  of  George 
the  Second  was  placed  in  it.  Nor  did  the  Queen  con- 
fine her  alterations  only  to  the  palace.  She  had  a 
passion  for  gardening,  especially  landscape  gardening, 
and  the  grounds  of  Hampton  Court  were  considerably 
changed  under  her  supervision.  It  was  she  who 
substituted  wide  sweeping  lawns  for  the  numerous 
fountains  and  elaborate  flower  beds  which  until  then 
had  ornamented  the  great  fountain  garden.  Her 
alterations  in  many  respects  were  severely  criti- 

Both  the  King  and  the  Queen  had  pleasant  me- 
mories of  the  place  where  they  had  celebrated  their 
only  regency  when  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales. 
The  summer  after  the  coronation  they  came  to 
Hampton  Court  for  some  time,  and,  as  long  as  the 
Queen  lived,  a  regular  practice  was  made  of  spending 
at  least  two  months  there  every  summer.  From 
Hampton  Court  the  King  did  a  great  deal  of  stag 
hunting  ;  he  was  especially  fond  of  the  pleasures  of 
the  chase  and  would  not  forego  them  on  any 
account.  His  enthusiasm  was  not  shared  by  the 
lady  members  of  the  royal  household.  "  We  hunt," 
writes  Mrs.  Howard  from  Hampton  Court  to  Lady 
Hervey,  "  with  great  noise  and  violence,  and  have 
every  day  a  very  tolerable  chance  to  have  a  neck 

1  Most  of  them,  both  in  the  palace  and  the  gardens,  were  carried 
out  by  Kent,  an  unworthy  successor  to  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Some 
of  Kent's  work  at  Hampton  Court  is  very  incongruous  and  inferior. 


broke ; " *  and  her  correspondent,  writing  of  the 
same  subject,  declares  her  belief  that  much  of  Mrs. 
Howard's  illness  was  due  to  this  violent  riding. 
The  following  is  a  description  of  one  of  these  ex- 
peditions : — 

"  On  Saturday  their  Majesties,  together  with 
their  Royal  Highnesses  the  Duke  (of  Cumberland) 
and  the  Princesses,  came  to  the  new  park  by 
Richmond  from  Hampton  Court  and  diverted  them- 
selves with  hunting  a  stag,  which  ran  from  eleven  to 
one,  when  he  took  to  the  great  pond,  where  he 
defended  himself  for  half  an  hour,  when  he  was 
killed.  His  Majesty,  the  Duke,  and  the  Princess 
Royal  hunted  on  horseback,  her  Majesty  and  the 
Princess  Amelia  in  a  four-wheeled  chaise,  Princess 
Caroline  in  a  two-wheeled  chaise,  and  the  Princesses 
Mary  and  Louisa  in  a  coach.  Her  Majesty  was 
pleased  to  show  great  condescension  and  complais- 
ance to  the  country  people  by  conversing  with  them, 
and  ordering  them  money.  Several  of  the  nobility 
attended,  amongst  them  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  clothed 
in  green  as  Ranger.  When  the  diversion  was  over 
their  Majesties,  the  Duke,  and  the  Princesses 
refreshed  themselves  on  the  spot  with  a  cold  colla- 
tion, as  did  the  nobility  at  some  distance  of  time 

1  Accidents  were  not  infrequent  at  these  hunting  parties.  For 
instance,  we  read  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day  : — 

"  25th  August,  1731. — The  Royal  Family  were  hunting,  and  in 
the  chase  a  stag  started  upon  the  Princess  Amelia's  horse,  which, 
being  frightened,  threw  her. 

"  28th  August,  1731. — The  Royal  Family  hunted  in  Richmond 
Park,  when  the  Lord  Delaware's  lady  was  overturned  in  a  chaise, 
which  went  over  but  did  no  visible  hurt." 


after,  and  soon  after  two  in  the  afternoon  returned 
to  Hampton  Court."1 

The  Queen  always  accompanied  the  King  in 
her  chaise,  but  she  cared  nothing  for  the  sport. 
She  took  with  her  her  vice-chamberlain,  Lord 
Hervey,  "who  loved  hunting  as  little  as  she  did, 
so  that  he  might  ride  constantly  by  the  side  of 
her  chaise,  and  entertain  her  whilst  other  people 
were  entertaining  themselves  by  hearing  dogs  bark, 
and  seeing  crowds  gallop  ".2  The  King  cared  only 
for  stag-hunting  and  coursing  ;  he  affected  to  despise 
fox-hunting,  though  the  sport  was  very  popular 
among  his  subjects.  Once,  when  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  said  he  was  going  down  to  the  country  to  hunt 
the  fox,  the  King  told  him  that :  "It  was  a  pretty 
occupation  for  a  man  of  quality,  and  at  his  age  to  be 
spending  all  his  time  in  tormenting  a  poor  fox,  that 
was  generally  a  much  better  beast  than  any  of  those 
that  pursued  him ;  for  the  fox  hurts  no  other  animal 
but  for  his  subsistence,  while  those  brutes  who  hurt 
him  did  it  only  for  the  pleasure  they  took  in  hurting." 
The  Duke  of  Grafton  said  he  did  it  for  his  health. 
The  King  asked  him  why  he  could  not  as  well  walk 
or  ride  post  for  his  health ;  and  added,  if  there  was 
any  pleasure  in  the  chase,  he  was  sure  the  Duke  of 
of  Grafton  can  know  nothing  of  it ;  "  for,"  added  his 
Majesty,  "  with  your  great  corps  of  twenty  stone 
weight,  no  horse,  I  am  sure,  can  carry  you  within 
hearing,  much  less  within  sight,  of  the  hounds." 8 

1  Stamford  Mercury,  22nd  August,  1728. 
2Hervey's  Memoirs.  *Ibid. 


At  Hampton  Court,  as  at  St.  James's,  the 
King  and  Queen  dined  in  public  on  Sundays,  and 
the  people  came  in  crowds  to  see  the  sight.  On 
one  of  these  occasions  an  absurd  incident  took 
place.  "  There  was  such  a  resort  to  Hampton 
Court  last  Sunday  to  see  their  Majesties  dine," 
writes  a  news-sheet,  "that  the  rail  surrounding 
the  table  broke,  and  causing  some  to  fall,  made 
a  diverting  scramble  for  hats  and  wigs,  at  which 
their  Majesties  laughed  heartily." 1  On  private 
evenings  at  Hampton  Court  the  only  amusement 
was  cards,  but  now  and  then  the  King  and 
Queen  held  drawing-rooms,  in  the  audience  cham- 
ber.2 Often  in  summer,  when  the  nights  were 
fine,  the  Queen  and  her  ladies  would  go  out  and 
walk  in  the  gardens.  We  may  picture  her  pacing 
up  and  down  the  avenues  of  chestnut  and  lime  in 
the  warm  dusk,  or  viewing  from  the  gardens  the 
beautiful  palace  bathed  in  the  moonbeams.  So 
little  is  changed  to-day  that  it  requires  no  great 
effort  of  the  imagination  to  re-people  Hampton 
Court  with  the  figures  of  the  early  Georgian 

One  of  the  most  prominent  personages  at  the 
Court  of  Queen  Caroline  was  her  favourite,  Lord 
Hervey,  whom  she  had  now  appointed  her  vice- 
chamberlain,  and  who  enjoyed  her  fullest  confidence. 

1  Stamford  Mercury,  25th  July,  1728. 

2  The  canopy  of  crimson  silk  under  which  Caroline  stood  is  still 
affixed  to  the  wall  of  the  Queen's  audience  chamber  at  Hampton 
Court — or  was  there  until  lately. 


The  Queen  delighted  to  have  him  about  her  at  all 
times,  and  would  converse  with  him  for  hours 
together,  asking  him  questions  about  a  hundred 
and  one  things,  and  laughing  at  his  clever  talk. 
Lord  Hervey  was  a  man  of  considerable  wit  and 
ability,  and  undoubtedly  an  amusing  companion. 
But  he  was  a  contemptible  personality,  diseased 
in  body  and  warped  in  mind,  incapable  of  taking 
a  broad  and  generous  view  of  any  one  or  anything  ; 
ignorant  of  lofty  ideals  and  noble  motives  himself, 
he  was  quite  unable  to  understand  them  in  others, 
and  always  sought  some  sordid  or  selfish  reason 
for  every  action.  The  Queen,  however,  overlook- 
ing his  faults,  with  which  she  must  have  been 
familiar,  and  his  effeminacies  and  immoralities,  of 
which  she  could  not  have  been  ignorant,  believed 
that  he  was  a  faithful  servant  to  her,  and  trusted 
him  in  no  ordinary  degree.  As  a  sign  of  her 
favour  she  increased  his  salary  as  vice-chamber- 
lain by  ,£1,000  a  year,  allowed  him  considerable 
patronage,  which  was  worth  a  good  deal  more, 
and  made  him  many  valuable  presents.  She 
treated  him  rather  as  a  son  than  as  a  subject. 
"It  is  well  I  am  so  old,"  she  used  to  say  (she  was 
fourteen  years  Hervey's  senior),  "or  I  should  be 
talked  of  over  this  creature."  No  one,  however, 
ever  talked  scandal  of  her  Majesty,  though  some 
doubted  her  judgment  in  choosing  her  friends, 
and  it  must  be  confessed  that  she  was  unwise  in 
admitting  Hervey  to  so  many  of  her  secrets. 

Notwithstanding    that    she    heaped    favours    upon 
VOL.  ii.  5 


him,  he  repaid  her  with  ingratitude,  and  when  she 
was  dead  endeavoured  to  befoul  her  memory.  But 
to  the  Queen's  face  he  was  a  fawning  and  accom- 
plished courtier,  and  expressed  the  greatest  zeal 
in  her  service. 

Hervey  had  a  nimble  and  superficial  pen,  and 
sometimes  employed  himself  in  writing  anonymous 
pamphlets  in  defence  of  the  Government  and 
Court  against  members  of  the  Opposition.  A 
great  many  of  these  anonymous  pamphlets  were 
showered  upon  the  town  at  this  time,  and  Pulte- 
ney  chancing  to  come  across  one  of  them, 
entitled  Sedition  and  Defamation  Displayed,  which 
attacked  him  and  Bolingbroke  in  no  measured 
terms,  thought  it  was  from  Lord  Hervey 's  pen  (it 
afterwards  turned  out  to  be  not  so),  and  wrote  a 
violent  answer,  also  anonymous,  called  A  Proper 
Reply  to  a  Late  Scurrilous  Libel.  This  pamphlet 
abused" Walpole,  and  by  implication  the  Court,  and 
applied  several  opprobrious  epithets  to  Hervey, 
speaking  of  him  by  his  nickname  "  Lord  Fanny," 
describing  him  as  "half-man  and  half-woman,"  and 
dwelling  malignantly  on  his  peculiar  infirmities. 
The  pamphlet  was  warmly  resented  at  court.  Like 
many  who  set  no  bounds  to  their  own  malice, 
Hervey  was  extremely  sensitive  to  attack,  and 
wishing  to  curry  favour  with  the  King  and  Queen 
he  wrote  to  Pulteney  to  know  if  he  were  the  author 
of  the  pamphlet.  Pulteney  answered  that  he  would 
inform  him  on  that  point  if  Hervey  would  tell  him  first 
whether  he  was  the  writer  of  Sedition  and  Defama- 


tion  Displayed.  Hervey  sent  back  word  to  say 
that  he  had  not  written  the  pamphlet,  and  again 
demanded  an  answer  to  his  question.  Pulteney 
returned  a  defiant  message  saying  that  "whether  or 
no  he  was  the  author  of  the  Reply  he  was  ready  to 
justify  and  stand  by  the  truth  of  every  word  of  it, 
at  what  time  and  wherever  Lord  Hervey  pleased  ". 
This  was  tantamount  to  a  challenge,  and  Hervey, 
though  not  given  to  duelling,  could  not  in  honour 
ignore  it.  A  duel  was  arranged.  "Accordingly," 
writes  an  eye-witness,1  "on  Monday  last,  between 
three  and  four  in  the  afternoon,  they  met  in  Upper 
St.  James's  Park,  behind  Arlington  Street,  with 
their  two  seconds,  who  were  Mr.  Fox  and  Sir  J. 
Rushout.  The  two  combatants  were  each  of  them 
slightly  wounded,  but  Mr.  Pulteney  had  once  so 
much  the  advantage  of  Lord  Hervey  that  he  would 
have  infallibly  run  my  lord  through  the  body  if 
his  foot  had  not  slipped,  and  then  the  seconds 
took  the  occasion  to  part  them.  Upon  which  Mr. 
Pulteney  embraced  Lord  Hervey,  and  expressed 
a  great  deal  of  concern  at  the  accident  of  their 
quarrel,  promising  at  the  same  time  that  he  would 
never  personally  attack  him  again,  either  with  his 
mouth  or  his  pen.  Lord  Hervey  made  him  a 
bow  without  giving  him  any  sort  of  answer,  and, 
to  use  a  common  expression,  thus  they  parted." 
Sir  Charles  Hanbury  Williams  wrote  some  lines 
on  this  duel,  in  which,  addressing  Pulteney,  he 
says : — 

Thomas  Pelham  to  Lord  Waldegrave,  3Oth  June,  1730. 


Lord  Fanny  once  did  play  the  dunce, 

And  challenged  you  to  fight ; 
And  he  so  stood  to  lose  his  blood, 

But  had  a  dreadful  fright. 

Among  minor  figures  about  the  court  two  of 
the  most  familiar  were  Lord  Lifford  and  his  sister, 
Lady  Charlotte  de  Roussie.  They  were  the  children 
of  a  Count  de  Roussie,  a  French  Protestant  who 
came  over  to  England  with  William  of  Orange  in 
1688,  and  was  created  by  him  Earl  of  Lifford  in  the 
peerage  of  Ireland.  They  were  typical  courtiers  of 
the  baser  sort,  and  would  perform  the  meanest 
offices  and  indulge  in  the  grossest  flattery  in  order 
to  win  some  rays  of  the  royal  favour.  They  were 
not  popular  with  any  of  the  English  people  about 
the  court.  Hervey  tells  us :  "  They  had  during 
four  reigns  subsisted  upon  the  scanty  charity  of  the 
English  Court.  They  were  constantly,  every  night 
in  the  country  and  three  nights  in  the  town,  alone 
with  the  King  or  Queen  for  an  hour  or  two  before 
they  went  to  bed,  during  which  time  the  King 
walked  about  and  talked  to  the  brother  of  arms, 
or  to  the  sister  of  genealogies,  whilst  the  Queen 
nodded  and  yawned,  till  from  yawning  she  came 
to  nodding,  and  nodding  to  snoring.  These  two 
miserable  Court  drudges,  who  were  in  a  more  constant 
waiting  than  any  of  the  pages  of  the  backstairs, 
were  very  simple  and  very  quiet,  did  nobody  any 
hurt,  nor  anybody  but  His  Majesty  any  pleasure, 
who  paid  them  so  ill  for  all  their  assiduity  and 
slavery  that  they  were  not  only  not  in  affluence,  but 
laboured  under  the  disagreeable  burdens  of  small 


debts,  which  ,£1,000  would  have  paid,  and  had  not 
an  allowance  from  the  Court,  that  enabled  them 
to  appear  there  even  in  the  common  decency  of 
clean  clothes.  The  King  nevertheless  was  always 
saying  how  well  he  loved  them,  and  calling  them 
the  best  people  in  the  world,  but  though  he  never 
forgot  their  goodness  he  never  remembered  their 

Another  foreign  dependent  was  Schiitz,  a  Han- 
overian. Pope,  who  had  lost  the  favour  of  the 
Court,  was  very  bitter  upon  those  who  retained 
it ;  in  one  of  his  ballads  he  sings  : — 

Alas !  like  Schiitz  I  cannot  pun, 

Like  Grafton  court  the  Germans, 
Tell  Pickenbourg  how  slim  she's  grown, 

Like  Meadows  run  to  sermons. 

Hervey  satirises  Schiitz's  dulness  as  follows  : — 

And  sure  in  sleep  no  dulness  you  need  fear 
Who,  ev'n  awake,  can  Schutz  and  Lifford  bear. 

And  again — 

Charlotte  and  Schutz  like  angry  monkeys  chatter, 
None  guessing  what's  the  language  or  the  matter. 

While  in  another  of  his  satires  occur  these  lines  : — 

There  is  another  Court  booby,  at  once  hot  and  dull, 
Your  pious  pimp  Schutz,  a  mean  Hanover  tool. 

A  personage  of  quite  a  different  order  to  the 
foregoing  was  Henrietta  Louisa,  Countess  of  Pom- 
fret,  the  authoress  of  the  correspondence  with  Lady 
Hertford.  Lady  Pomfret  was  the  granddaughter  on 
the  paternal  side  of  Judge  Jefferies,  on  the  maternal 


of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  on  the  strength  of 
the  latter  claimed  descent  from  Edward  the  First. 
Lady  Pomfret  accepted  the  post  of  lady  of  the  bed- 
chamber, but  she  was  of  a  different  type  to  many 
of  the  Queen's  ladies.  She  was  a  matron  of 
unimpeachable  virtue,  the  mother  of  six  lovely 
daughters — all  beauties — of  whom,  perhaps,  the  best 
known  was  Lady  Sophia  Fermor,  afterwards  Lady 
Carteret.  Lady  Pomfret  had  a  keen  sense  of  her 
dignity,  and  she  affected  a  knowledge  of  literature 
and  the  fine  arts.  The  celebrated  "Pomfret  Letters," 
much  admired  in  their  day,  are  packed  with  plati- 
tudes, and  so  dull  that  they  leave  no  doubt  as  to 
the  correctness  of  her  principles.  Lady  Pomfret 
was  considered  by  many  of  her  contemporaries  to 
be  a  prodigy  of  learning  ;  she  seems  rather  to  have 
been  a  courtly  Mrs.  Malaprop.  She  once  declared 
that  "It  was  as  difficult  to  get  into  an  Italian  coach 
as  for  Caesar  to  take  Attica  " — by  which  she  meant 
Utica.  On  another  occasion  some  one  telling  her 
of  a  man  "  who  talked  of  nothing  but  Madeira,  she 
asked  gravely  what  language  that  was  ".  But  despite 
her  eccentricities  she  had  sterling  qualities,  and  was 
as  much  a  credit  to  the  court  as  her  daughters 
were  its  ornaments. 

The  Queen's  household  was  numerous,  and  in- 
cluded the  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  the  Duchess  of 
Dorset  six  ladies  of  the  bedchamber,  all  countesses  ; 
six  bedchamber  women  and  six  maids  of  honour. 
The  two  most  prominent  members  of  it  were  two 
bedchamber  women,  Mrs.  Clayton,  the  Queen's 


favourite,  and  Mrs.    Howard,  the  King's  favourite, 
who  hated  one  another  thoroughly. 

Mrs.  Clayton  had  now  great  influence  with  the 
Queen,  more  indeed  than  any  one  except  Walpole, 
with  whom  she  came  frequently  into  collision.  She 
was  an  irritating  woman  with  an  overwhelming  sense 
of  self-esteem.  Horace  Walpole  calls  her  "an  absurd 
pompous  simpleton ".  Lord  Hervey  credits  her 
with  all  the  virtues,  and  declares  that  she  possessed 
an  excellent  understanding  and  a  good  heart.  She 
undoubtedly  possessed  cunning  and  ability,  which 
she  used  to  such  advantage  that  she  ultimately  pro- 
cured for  her  stupid  husband  a  peerage,  as  Viscount 
Sundon,  and  she  foisted  a  large  family  of  needy 
relatives  on  to  the  public  service.  She  acted  as  a 
sort  of  unofficial  private  secretary  to  the  Queen  and 
became  the  medium  of  all  manner  of  communications 
to  her  mistress.  Many  of  the  letters  written  to  her 
were  really  addressed  to  Caroline.  Walpole  heart- 
ily disliked  Mrs.  Clayton  and  tried  in  vain  to  shake 
her  influence  with  the  Queen.  Her  ascendency- 
was  inexplicable  to  him  for  years,  but  at  last  he 
thought  that  he  had  discovered  the  reason.  When 
Lady  Walpole  died,  the  Queen  asked  him  many 
questions  about  his  wife's  last  illness  and  persistently 
referred  to  one  particular  malady  from  which,  in 
point  of  fact,  Lady  Walpole  had  not  suffered.  The 
Prime  Minister  noticed  it,  and  when  he  came  home 
he  said  to  his  son  :  "  Now,  Horace,  I  know  by  the 
possession  of  what  secret  Lady  Sundon  has  pre- 
served such  an  ascendant  over  the  Queen  ".  Whether 


her  influence  was  wholly  due  to  this  cause  is  open 
to  question,  for  she  stood  in  high  favour  before  her 
mistress's  malady  began.  But  for  long  years  Caro- 
line suffered  from  a  distressing  illness  of  which  she 
would  rather  have  died  than  have  made  it  known, 
and  Mrs.  Clayton  was  one  of  the  few  who  knew  her 

All  the  maids  of  honour  except  Miss  Meadows 
had  changed  since  the  King  and  Queen  were  last  at 
Hampton  Court,  but  these  young  ladies  were  still  of 
a  lively  temperament.  One  evening  in  the  darkness 
several  of  them  played  at  ghost,  and  stole  out  into  the 
gardens  and  went  round  the  palace  rattling  and  knock- 
ing at  the  windows.  Lady  Hervey,  who  had  heard 
of  these  frolics,  writes  to  Mrs.  Howard  :  "I  think 
people  who  are  of  such  very  hot  constitutions  as  to 
want  to  be  refreshed  by  night  walking,  need  not 
disturb  others  who  are  not  altogether  so  warm  as 
they  are ;  and  it  was  very  lucky  that  looking  over 
letters  till  it  was  late,  prevented  some  people  being 
in  bed,  and  in  their  first  sleep,  otherwise  the  infinite 
wit  and  merry  pranks  of  the  youthful  maids  might 
have  been  lost  to  the  world."  l 

But,  however  lively  may  have  been  the  young 
maids  of  honour,  one  member  of  the  Queen's 
household  found  Hampton  Court  dull  under  the  new 
reign  and  its  glory  departed.  Writing  to  Lady 
Hervey  Mrs.  Howard  says  : — 

"  Hampton  is  very  different  from  the  place  you 

1  Lady  Hervey  to  Mrs.  Howard,  yth  July,  1729.  Suffolk  Corre- 


knew ;  and  to  say  we  wished  Tom  Lepell,  Schatz 
and  Bella-dine  at  the  tea-table,  is  too  interested  to  be 
doubted.  Frizelation,  flirtation  and  dangleation 
are  now  no  more,  and  nothing  less  than  a  Lepell 
can  restore  them  to  life  ;  but  to  tell  you  my  opinion 
freely,  the  people  you  now  converse  with  "  (books) 
"  are  much  more  alive  than  any  of  your  old  acquain- 
tances." x 

Mrs.  Howard  had  a  good  reason  to  be  dis- 
pirited, for  the  new  reign  had  proved  a  sad  disap- 
pointment to  her.  She  had  expected,  and  so  had 
her  friends,  that  the  King's  accession  to  the  throne 
would  bring  her  an  increase  of  power,  wealth  and 
influence,  which  would  have  helped  to  compensate 
her  for  the  equivocal  position  she  occupied,  a  position 
which,  as  she  was  a  modest  woman,  could  not  have 
been  altogether  congenial  to  her.  "  No  established 
mistress  of  a  sovereign,"  says  Horace  Walpole, 
"  ever  enjoyed  less  brilliancy  of  the  situation  than 
Lady  Suffolk."  The  only  benefit  she  received 
was  a  peerage  for  her  brother,  Sir  Henry  Hobart, 
and  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  trying  career  at  court 
she  managed  to  amass  a  sum,  not  indeed  sufficient 
to  give  her  wealth,  but  to  save  her  from  indi- 
gence. The  Queen  once  said  that  Mrs.  Howard 
received  ,£1,200  a  year  from  the  King  all  the  time 
he  was  Prince  of  Wales,  and  it  was  increased  to 
,£3,200  a  year  when  he  became  King.  He  also  gave 
her  ;£ 1 2,000  towards  building  her  villa  at  Marble 
Hill,  near  Twickenham,  besides  several  "  little  dabs' 

1  Mrs.  Howard  to  Lady  Hervey,  September,  17:48. 


both  before  and  after  he  came  to  the  throne.  But 
this  represented  all  that  Mrs.  Howard  gained,  if 
indeed  she  gained  so  much  ;  patronage  or  influence 
she  had  none,  and  those  who  placed  their  trust 
in  her  found  themselves  out  of  favour.  After 
a  while  the  courtiers  began  to  find  out  that  it 
was  more  profitable  to  pay  their  suit  to  Mrs.  Clay- 
ton, who  had  the  ear  of  the  Queen,  than  to  Mrs. 
Howard,  who  had  not  the  ear  of  the  King.  Yet 
the  King  still  continued  to  visit  Mrs.  Howard  for 
some  three  or  four  hours  every  evening,  at  nine 
o'clock,  "but  with  such  dull  punctuality  that  he 
frequently  walked  up  and  down  the  gallery  for  ten 
minutes  with  his  watch  in  his  hand  if  the  stated 
minute  was  not  arrived  ".1  The  Queen  was  doubt- 
less glad  to  get  rid  of  him  for  a  time,  but  Mrs. 
Howard  must  have  suffered  sadly  from  the  tedium 
of  entertaining  her  royal  master  on  these  daily  visits, 
and  certainly  deserved  more  than  she  got  in  the 
way  of  recompense.  She  had,  as  one  puts  it,  "  the 
scandal  of  being  the  King's  mistress  without  the 
pleasure,  the  confinement  without  the  profit ".  The 
Queen  took  care  that  the  profit  was  strictly  limited. 
The  King  was  so  mean  that  at  one  time  he  even 
suggested,  indirectly,  that  the  Queen  should  pay 
Mrs.  Howard's  husband  out  of  her  privy  purse  for 
keeping  himself  quiet.  This  was  too  great  a  tax  even 
on  Caroline's  complaisance  and  in  one  of  her  bursts 

1  Walpole's  Reminiscences.  Mrs.  Howard  was  lodged  at  Hampton 
Court  in  the  fine  suite  of  rooms  until  recently  occupied  by  the  late 
Lady  Georgiana  Grey. 


of  confidence  she  told  Lord  Hervey  that  when 
Howard  insisted  on  his  wife  returning  to  him, 
"  That  old  fool,  my  Lord  Trevor,  came  to  me  from 
Mrs.  Howard,  and  after  thanking  me  in  her  name  for 
what  I  had  done,  proposed  to  me  to  give  ,£1,200  a 
year  to  Mr.  Howard  to  let  his  wife  stay  with  me  ; 
but  as  I  thought  I  had  done  full  enough,  and  that  it 
was  a  little  too  much  not  only  to  keep  the  King's 
guenipes"  (in  English  trulls)  "under  my  roof,  but  to 
pay  them  too,  I  pleaded  poverty  to  my  good  Lord 
Trevor,  and  said  I  wrould  do  anything  to  keep  so 
good  a  servant  as  Mrs.  Howard  about  me,  but  that 
for  the  .£1,200  a-year  I  really  could  not  afford  it". 
So  Howard's  silence  was  bought  out  of  the  King's 
pocket,  and  Mrs.  Howard's  maintenance  was  partly 
provided  by  him,  and  partly  by  the  Queen,  who 
gave  her  a  place  in  her  household  and  so  threw  a 
veil  of  respectability  over  the  affair. 

Mrs.  Howard  found  that  she  gained  so  little 
by  the  King's  accession,  that  she  wished  to  retire 
from  court,  but  was  not  allowed  to  do  so.  Mean- 
while all  her  nominations  were  refused.  She  seems 
to  have  shown  her  resentment  in  divers  ways.  Her 
refusal  to  kneel  during  the  ceremony  of  the  Queen's 
dressing  was  perhaps  one  manifestation  of  it.  With 
regard  to  her  uprising  and  retiring,  her  dressing 
and  undressing,  Queen  Caroline  followed  the  custom^ 
which  had  been  observed  by  all  kings  and  queens  of 
England  until  George  the  First,  who  refused  to  be 
bound  by  precedent  in  this  matter.  Caroline  per- 
formed the  greater  part  of  her  dressing  surrounded 


by  many  persons.  The  Queen,  who  had  a  great 
idea  of  what  was  due  to  her  dignity,  desired  that 
the  bedchamber-woman  in  waiting  should  bring  the 
basin  and  ewer  and  present  them  to  her  kneeling. 
Mrs.  Howard  objected  to  this,  and,  considering  the 
peculiar  relations  which  existed  between  her  and  the 
King,  her  objection  was  natural  enough.  But  the 
Queen  insisted.  "  The  first  thing,"  said  Caroline  to 
Lord  Hervey  later,  "this  wise,  prudent  Lady  Suffolk" 
[Mrs.  Howard]  "did  was  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  me 
about  holding  a  basin  in  the  ceremony  of  my  dressing, 
and  to  tell  me,  with  her  little  fierce  eyes,  and  cheeks 
as  red  as  your  coat,  that  positively  she  would  not  do 
it ;  to  which  I  made  her  no  answer  then  in  anger, 
but  calmly,  as  I  would  have  said  to  a  naughty  child, 
'  Yes,  my  dear  Howard,  I  am  sure  you  will ;  indeed 
you  will.  Go,  go !  fie  for  shame !  Go,  my  good 
Howard  ;  we  will  talk  of  this  another  time." 

Mrs.  Howard  went,  and  in  her  dilemma  wrote  to 
Dr.  Arbuthnot  to  inquire  of  Lady  Masham,  who  had 
been  at  one  time  bedchamber-woman  to  Queen 
Anne,  whether  this  disputed  point  was  really  accord- 
ing to  precedent.  She  got  little  comfort  from  Lady 
Masham,  who  through  Arbuthnot  replied  :— 

"  The  bedchamber-wcwztfw  came  into  waiting 
before  the  Queen's  prayers,  which  was  before  her 
Majesty  was  dressed.  The  Queen  often  shifted  in 
a  morning ;  if  her  Majesty  shifted  at  noon,  the  bed- 
chamber-/tfd^/  being  by,  the  bedchamber-zw^flw  gave 
the  shift  to  the  lady  without  any  ceremony,  and  the 
lady  put  it  on.  Sometimes,  likewise,  the  bed- 


chamber-woman  gave  the  fan  to  the  lady  in  the 
same  manner  ;  and  this  was  all  that  the  bedchamber- 
lady  did  about  the  Queen  at  her  dressing. 

"  When  the  Queen  washed  her  hands  the  page  of 
the  backstairs  brought  and  set  down  upon  a  side- 
table  the  basin  and  ewer,  then  the  bedchamber- 
woman  set  it  before  the  Queen,  and  knelt  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table  over  against  the  Queen,  the 
bedchamber-/#^y  only  looking  on.  The  bedchamber- 
woman  poured  the  water  out  of  the  ewer  upon  the 
Queen's  hands. 

"The  bedchamber-woman  pulled  on  the  Queen's 
gloves  when  she  could  not  do  it  herself.1 

"  The  page  of  the  backstairs  was  called  in  to  put 
on  the  Queen's  shoes. 

"  When  the  Queen  dined  in  public  the  page 
reached  the  glass  to  the  bedchamber-woman,  and  she 
to  the  lady  in  waiting. 

"  The  bedchamber-woman  brought  the  chocolate, 
and  gave  it  without  kneeling. 

"In  general,  the  bedchamber-woman  had  no  de- 
pendence on  the  lady  of  the  bedchamber." 2 

As  Mrs.  Howard  was  not  a  lady  of  the  bed- 
chamber but  bedchamber-woman  only,  she  found 
that  the  Queen  had  asked  of  her  nothing  more 
than  etiquette  required,  and  after  a  week  of  inde- 
cision she  yielded  the  point,  and  knelt  with  the  basin 
as  commanded.  Horace  Walpole,  who  was  fond  of 

1  Queen  Anne's  hands  were  swollen  with  gout. 

2  Dr.  Arbuthnot   to    Mrs.    Howard,    2Qth  May,    1728.       Suffolk 


imputing  base  motives  to  others,  says  that  the  Queen 
delighted  in.  subjecting  her  to  such  servile  offices, 
though  always  apologising  to  her  "good  Howard". 
But  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  the  Queen 
was  capable  of  such  petty  spite  ;  she  required  nothing 
more  than  the  duties  the  office  involved,  however 
menial  they  may  seem  now.  The  Queen,  who  bore  no 
malice,  soon  forgave  Mrs.  Howard  this  little  display 
of  temper,  for  she  told  Lord  Hervey  :  "  About  a 
week  after,  when  upon  maturer  deliberation,  she  had 
done  everything  about  the  basin  that  I  would  have 
her,  I  told  her  I  knew  we  should  be  good  friends 
again  ;  but  could  not  help  adding,  in  a  little  more 
serious  voice,  that  I  owned  of  all  my  servants  I  had 
least  expected,  as  I  had  least  deserved  it,  such  treat- 
ment from  her,  when  she  knew  I  had  held  her  up  at 
a  time  when  it  was  in  my  power,  if  I  had  pleased, 
any  hour  of  the  day  to  let  her  drop  through  my 
fingers — thus—  — ." 

The  Queen's  morning  toilet  was  generally  made 
by  her  the  occasion  of  an  informal  levee,  and  to  it  she 
would  command  all  those  whom  she  wished  to  see 
on  any  subject.  While  her  head  was  being  tired  a 
group  would  be  standing  around  her,  and  in  the  ante- 
chamber divines  rubbed  shoulders  with  poets,  and 
learned  men  with  politicians  and  court  ladies.  On 
the  Queen's  toilet  table  would  be  found  not  only 
the  requisites  for  dressing  but  a  heap  of  other 
things — a  sermon,  a  new  book,  a  poem  in  her 
praise,  a  report  as  to  her  gardens  and  build- 
ing plans,  a  pile  of  letters  on  every  conceivable 



subject,  and  the  memorandum  of  a  minister.  All 
these  she  would  deal  with  quickly  and  character- 
istically. She  would  also  on  these  occasions  have 
retailed  to  her  the  latest  news,  or  engage  a 
philosopher  and  a  divine  in  a  dispute  upon  some 
abstract  question,  and  would  put  in  a  word  in 
the  interval  of  having  her  head  tired  and  washing 
her  hands.  Prayers  would  be  read  to  her  in  an 
adjoining  room  while  she  was  dressing,  in  order  to 
save  time.  The  door  was  left  a  little  ajar  so  that  the 
chaplain's  voice  might  be  heard.  The  bedchamber- 
woman  was  one  day  commanded  to  bid  the  chaplain, 
Dr.  Maddox,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Worcester,  to 
begin  his  prayers,  but  seeing  a  picture  of  a  naked 
Venus  over  the  fald-stool,  the  divine  made  bold  to 
remark  :  "  And  a  very  proper  altar  piece  is  here, 
madam  !  "  On  another  occasion  the  Queen  ordered 
the  door  to  be  closed  for  a  minute,  and  then,  not 
hearing  the  chaplain's  voice,  she  sent  to  know  why 
he  was  not  going  on  with  his  prayers.  The 
indignant  clergyman  replied  that  he  refused  to 
whistle  the  word  of  God  through  the  keyhole.  This 
latter  anecdote  is  sometimes  told  of  Queen  Anne, 
though,  as  she  was  always  very  devout  in  her 
religious  observances,  it  is  far  more  likely  to  be 
true  of  Queen  Caroline.  It  is  borne  out  by  the 
following  passage,  which  occurs  in  "a  dramatic 
trifle "  which  Lord  Hervey  wrote  to  amuse  the 
Queen,  entitled  The  Death  of  Lord  Hervey  or  a 
Morning  at  Court.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  Queen's 
dressing-room.  "  The  Queen  is  discovered  at  her 


toilet  cleaning  her  teeth,  with  Mrs.  Purcell  dressing 
her  Majesty's  head,  and  the  princesses,  and  ladies 
and  women  of  the  bedchamber  standing  around  her. 
The  Litany  is  being  said  in  the  next  room  "  : — 

First  Parson  (behind  the  scenes) :  "  From  pride, 
vain  glory  and  hypocrisy,  from  envy,  hatred  and 
malice,  and  all  uncharitableness ". 

Second  Parson :  "  Good  Lord  deliver  us !  " 

Queen :  "  I  pray,  my  good  Lady  Sundon,  shut  a 
little  that  door ;  those  creatures  pray  so  loud,  one 
cannot  hear  oneself  speak."  \Lady  Sundon  goes  to 
shut  the  doorJ]  "  So,  so,  not  quite  so  much  ;  leave 
it  enough  open  for  those  parsons  to  think  we  may 
hear,  and  enough  shut  that  we  may  not  hear  quite 
so  much." 

The  King  seldom  honoured  these  morning 
levies  of  his  Queen  with  his  presence,  for  he 
disliked  cosmopolitan  gatherings,'  but  sometimes 
he  would  strut  in  and  clear  out  the  crowd  with 
scant  ceremony.  On  one  occasion  he  came  into 
the  room  while  the  Queen  was  dressing,  and  seeing 
that  his  consort's  bosom  was  covered  with  a  ker- 
chief, he  snatched  it  away,  exclaiming  angrily  to 
Mrs.  Howard  who  was  in  waiting:  "Is  it  because 
you  have  an  ugly  neck  yourself  that  you  love  to 
hide  the  Queen's  "  ?  The  Queen's  bust  was  said  by 
sculptors  to  have  been  the  finest  in  Europe. 

The  Queen  was  pleased  with  Mrs.  Howard's 
submission  in  the  matter  of  the  basin,  and  by  way  of 
marking  her  appreciation,  she  did  her  the  honour  of 
dining  with  her  at  her  new  villa  at  Marble  Hill — 


that  famous  villa  of  which  Lords  Burlington  and 
Pembroke  designed  the  front,  Bathurst  and  Pope 
planned  the  gardens,  and  Swift,  Gay  and  Arbuthnot 
arranged  the  household.  But  the  Queen  would 
allow  Mrs.  Howard  no  political  influence.  Compton 
and  Pulteney,  Bolingbroke  and  other  Opposition 
leaders  who  had  trusted  to  her  found  that  they  had 
leant  on  a  broken  reed.  Indeed  Mrs.  Howard's 
goodwill  seemed  fatal  to  all  her  friends.  It  was 
through  her,  unwittingly,  that  Lord  Chesterfield  lost 
the  favour  of  the  Queen,  though  Walpole's  jealousy, 
and  the  remembrance  the  Queen  had  of  his  mocking 
her  in  the  old  days  at  Leicester  House,  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it. 

Chesterfield,  who  had  been  appointed  in  the  last 
reign  Ambassador  at  the  Hague,  came  over  to  Eng- 
land some  little  time  after  King  George  the  Second 
ascended  the  throne  to  see  his  friends  and  pay  his 
respects  to  their  Majesties.  He  at  once  repaired 
to  Walpole,  who  said  to  him  jealously:  "Well,  my 
Lord,  I  find  you  have  come  to  be  Secretary  of 
State ".  Lord  Chesterfield  declared  that  he  had 
no  such  ambition,  but  he  said  :  "I  claim  the  Garter, 
not  on  account  of  my  late  services,  but  agreeably 
with  the  King's  promise  to  me  when  he  was  Prince 
of  Wales  ;  besides,  I  am  a  man  of  pleasure,  and  the 
blue  riband  would  add  two  inches  to  my  size". 
The  King  kept  his  word,  and  Chesterfield  was 
given  the  Garter,  and  also  the  sinecure  of  High 
Steward  of  the  Household.  All  would  have  gone 

well   with   him  if  he  had   not  been  so  unfortunate 
VOL.  n.  6 


as  to  get  again  into  the  Queen's  bad  books.  "The 
Queen,"  says  Horace  Walpole,  "had  an  obscure 
window  at  St.  James's  that  looked  into  a  dark 
passage,  lighted  only  by  a  single  lamp  at  night, 
which  looked  upon  Mrs.  Howard's  apartment. 
Lord  Chesterfield,  one  Twelfth-night  at  Court,  had 
won  so  large  a  sum  of  money  that  he  thought 
It  imprudent  to  carry  it  home  in  the  dark,  and 
deposited  it  with  the  mistress.  Thus  the  Queen 
inferred  great  intimacy  ;  thenceforward  Lord  Ches- 
terfield could  obtain  no  favour  from  Court."  The 
sum  which  Lord  Chesterfield  was  said  to  have  won 
on  this  occasion  was  ,£15,000,  which  gives  some 
idea  of  the  high  play  then  in  vogue.  But  he  lost 
far  more  than  he  gained — the  Queen's  goodwill, 
without  which  no  statesman  could  hold  place  in 
the  councils  of  the  King. 



FREDERICK  Louis,  the  eldest  son  of  George  the 
Second,  still  remained  at  Hanover,  though  now  direct 
heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  and  his  father  made 
no  sign.  Remembering  perchance  what  a  thorn  he, 
when  Prince  of  Wales,  had  been  in  his  father's  side, 
the  King  was  afraid  lest  his  heir  should  treat  him 
likewise,  and  the  Queen,  whose  affection  had  gone 
to  her  younger  son,  William,  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
agreed  with  her  husband  as  to  the  advisability  of 
keeping  their  first-born  away  from  England  as  long 
as  possible.  This  is  more  extraordinary  when  it  is 
remembered  that  the  policy  of  George  the  First  in 
keeping  Frederick  at  Hanover  was,  in  the  early 
part  of  his  reign,  one  of  his  son's  grievances  against 
him,  and  he  and  the  Princess  frequently  urged,  both 
in  private  and  public,  that  their  son  should  be  brought 
to  England.  But  after  the  birth  of  William,  Duke  of 
Cumberland,  they  completely  changed  their  minds, 
and  were  as  anxious  to  keep  Frederick  at  Hanover 
as  they  had  formerly  been  to  have  him  in  England. 
They  would  have  liked  to  supplant  the  elder  brother 


by  the  younger,  who  was  born  on  British  soil — to 
give  Prince  Frederick  Hanover  only,  and  reserve 
the  throne  of  England  for  Prince  William.  They 
forgot  that  the  English  crown  was  not  theirs  to 
give.  In  the  latter  days  of  George  the  First's  reign 
Walpole  urged  upon  the  old  King  the  advisability 
of  bringing  his  grandson  to  England,  and  George 
would,  it  was  said,  have  brought  him  back  with 
him  after  his  last  visit  to  Hanover.  But  his  death 
on  the  road  thither  changed  all  this. 

Neither  the  King  nor  the  Queen  had  any  affection 
for  their  eldest  son,  who  had  grown  up  a  stranger 
to  them,  and  of  whom  they  received  unfavourable 
accounts.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  only  fair  to 
say  that  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  who  was 
by  no  means  given  to  flattering  any  one,  were  he 
prince  or  peasant,  on  her  visit  to  Hanover  in  1716 
spoke  strongly  in  Frederick's  favour.  She  writes  : 
"  Our  young  Prince,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  has 
all  the  accomplishments  that  it  is  possible  to 
have  at  his  age,  with  an  air  of  sprightliness  and 
understanding,  and  something  so  very  engaging 
and  easy  in  his  behaviour  that  he  needs  not  the 
advantage  of  his  rank  to  appear  charming.  I  had 
the  honour  of  a  long  conversation  with  him  last 
night  before  the  King  came  in.  His  governor 
retired  on  purpose,  as  he  told  me  afterwards,  that 
I  might  make  some  judgment  of  his  genius  by 
hearing  him  speak  without  constraint,  and  I  was 
surprised  by  the  quickness  and  politeness  that  ap- 
peared in  everything  that  he  said,  joined  to  a  person 


perfectly  agreeable,  and  the  fine  fair  hair  of  the 

The  fact  that  Frederick  had  grown  up  under  his 
grandfather's  influence  prejudiced  his  parents  against 
him,  more  especially  when  they  heard  that  he  es- 
poused the  old  King's  side  in  the  family  quarrel. 
On  the  other  hand,  his  father's  tardiness  in  sum- 
moning him  to  England  after  his  accession  and  his 
refusal  to  pay  the  debts  he  had  made  at  Hanover 
created  a  bad  feeling  on  Frederick's  part  towards 
his  parents.  Thus  matters  stood  for  more  than 
a  year  after  the  coronation,  despite  the  repre- 
sentations of  Walpole  and  the  clamours  of  the 
Opposition,  who  attacked  the  Government  for  not 
forcing  the  King's  hand  in  this  matter.  The 
Privy  Council  represented  the  dangers  that  would 
ensue  from  suffering  the  heir  to  the  throne  to 
remain  so  long  away  from  the  country  over  which 
he  would  one  day,  under  Providence,  reign.  The 
King  listened  very  unwillingly,  but  while  he  was 
hesitating  an  incident  occurred  which  hastened  his 

Prince  Frederick,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
betrothed,  more  or  less  formally,  to  Princess  Wil- 
helmina  of  Prussia,  and  his  grandfather  had  promised 
that  the  nuptials  should  be  solemnised  when  he 
next  came  to  Hanover,  but  his  death  postponed  the 
marriage.  George  the  Second  and  Caroline,  though 
they  did  not  absolutely  refuse  the  alliance,  declined 
to  be  bound  by  the  late  King's  word,  and  stipulated 
that  their  daughter  Amelia  should  marry  the  Crown 


Prince  of  Prussia  as  a  compensation.  The  Queen  of 
Prussia  was  more  than  willing,  but  the  King  of 
Prussia  did  not  want  Amelia  for  a  daughter-in-law 
any  more  than  the  King  and  Queen  of  England 
wanted  Wilhelmina,  and  so  matters  came  to  a  stand- 
still, to  the  despair  of  Queen  Sophie  Dorothea.  "  I 
will  not  have  a  daughter-in-law,"  said  the  King  of 
Prussia  to  his  Queen,  "who  carries  her  nose  in  the 
air  and  fills  my  Court  with  intrigues  as  others  are 
already  doing.  Your  Master  Fritz  [the  Crown 
Prince]  shall  soon  get  a  flogging  at  my  hands ;  and 
then  I  will  look  out  for  a  marriage  for  him."1  The 
Crown  Prince  was  quite  ready  to  marry  Amelia  or 
any  one  else,  if  it  would  give  him  some  independence 
and  protection  from  his  father's  ill-usage.  Prince 
Frederick  at  Hanover  declared  himself  in  love  with 
Wilhelmina,  whom  he  had  never  seen,  but  Wilhelmina 
was  anything  but  in  love  with  Frederick.  Her  mother 
had  so  dinned  him  into  her  ears,  and  had  given 
her  such  accounts  of  him,  that  she  had  grown  to 
dislike  him.  "  He  is  a  good-natured  prince,"  the 
Queen  said  to  her  daughter;  "kind-hearted,  but 
very  foolish  ;  if  you  have  sense  enough  to  tolerate 
his  mistresses,  you  will  be  able  to  do  what  you  like 
with  him."  Wilhelmina  declared  that  this  was  not 
the  ideal  husband  of  her  young  dreams  ;  she  wanted 
some  one  whom  she  could  look  up  to  and  respect, 
and  she  certainly  could  not  respect  Frederick. 

Prince  Frederick's  vanity  was  piqued  at  the  delay 
and  he  was  indignant  at  his  father's  neglect,  so,  early 

1  Memoirs  of  Wilhelmina,  Margravine  of  Baireuth. 


in  the  year  1728,  he  determined  to  take  matters  into 
his  own  hands.  He  sent  Lamotte,  a  Hanoverian 
officer,  on  a  secret  mission  to  Berlin  to  Sastot,  one  of 
the  Queen's  chamberlains.  When  Lamotte  reached 
Berlin  he  went  to  Sastot  and  said :  "  I  am  the 
bearer  of  a  most  important  confidential  message. 
You  must  hide  me  somewhere  in  your  house,  that 
my  arrival  may  remain  unknown,  and  you  must 
manage  that  one  of  my  letters  reaches  the  King." 
Sastot  promised,  but  asked  if  his  business  were  good 
or  evil.  "It  will  be  good  if  people  can  hold  their 
tongues,"  replied  the  Hanoverian,  "  but  if  they 
gossip  it  will  be  evil.  However,  as  I  know  you  are 
discreet,  and  as  I  require  your  help  in  obtaining  an 
interview  with  the  Queen,  I  must  confide  all  to  you. 
The  Prince  Frederick  Louis  intends  being  here  in 
three  weeks  at  the  latest.  He  means  to  escape 
secretly  from  Hanover,  brave  his  father's  anger, 
and  marry  the  Princess.  He  has  entrusted  me  with 
the  whole  affair,  and  has  sent  me  here  to  find  out 
if  his  arrival  would  be  agreeable  to  the  King  and 
Queen,  and  if  they  are  still  anxious  for  this  marriage. 
If  she  is  capable  of  keeping  a  secret  and  has  no 
suspicious  people  about  her,  will  you  undertake  to 
speak  to  the  Queen  on  the  subject  ?  " l 

The  same  evening  the  chamberlain  went  to 
Court  and  confided  to  the  Queen  the  weighty 
communication  with  which  he  was  entrusted.  The 
Queen  was  overjoyed,  and  the  next  day  communi- 
cated the  glad  news  to  her  daughter.  "'I  shall  at 

1  Memoirs  of  Wilhelmina,  Margravine  of  Baireuth. 


length  see  you  happy,  and  my  wishes  realised  at 
the  same  time ;  how  much  joy  at  once,'  cried  the 
Queen.  '  I  kissed  her  hands/  said  Wilhelmina, 
'which  I  covered  with  tears.'  'You  are  crying,' 
my  mother  exclaimed.  '  What  is  the  matter  ? ' 
I  would  not  disturb  her  happiness,  so  I  answered  : 
'  The  thought  of  leaving  you  distresses  me  more 
than  all  the  crowns  of  the  world  could  delight  me.' 
The  Queen  was  only  the  more  tender  towards  me  in 
consequence,  and  then  left  me.  I  loved  this  dear 
mother  truly,  and  had  only  spoken  the  truth  to 
her.  She  left  me  in  a  terrible  state  of  mind.  I  was 
cruelly  torn  between  my  affection  for  her,  and  my  re- 
pugnance for  the  Prince,  but  I  determined  to  leave 
all  to  Providence,  which  should  direct  my  ways."1 

The  Queen  held  a  reception  the  same  even- 
ing, and,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the  English 
envoy  Bourguait  came.  The  Queen,  forgetting 
her  prudence,  and  thinking  the  plan  was  well 
matured,  actually  confided  to  him  the  Prince's 
project.  Bourguait,  overwhelmed  with  astonish- 
ment, asked  the  Queen  if  it  were  really  true. 
"  Certainly,"  she  replied,  "  and  to  show  you  how 
true  it  is,  he  has  sent  Lamotte  here,  who  has 
already  informed  the  King  of  everything."  "Oh! 
why  does  your  Majesty  tell  me  this  ?  I  am 
wretched,  for  I  must  prevent  it ! "  exclaimed  the 
envoy.  Greatly  dismayed,  the  Queen  asked  him 
why.  "  Because  I  am  my  Sovereign's  envoy ; 
because  my  office  requires  of  me  that  I  should 

1  Memoirs  of  Wilhelmina,  Margravine  of  Baireuth. 


inform  him  of  so  important  a  matter.  I  shall  send 
off  a  messenger  to  England  this  very  evening. 
Would  to  God  I  had  known  nothing  of  all  this!" 
The  Queen  entreated  him  not  to  do  so,  but  he  was 
firm,  and  despatched  the  messenger  to  England. 
Thus  did  Queen  Sophie  Dorothea  defeat  the  scheme 
for  which  she  had  toiled  many  years  at  the  very 
moment  of  its  fruition. 

On  receipt  of  the  news  George  the  Second  sent 
Colonel  Lome  to  Hanover,  with  commands  to  bring 
the  Prince  over  to  England  without  an  instant's 
delay.  When  Lome  arrived  at  Hanover  a  few  days 
later  he  found  Prince  Frederick  giving  a  ball  at 
Herrenhausen.  He  gave  the  King's  message,  and 
acted  with  so  much  despatch  that  at  the  end  of  the 
ball  the  Prince,  escorted  by  Lome,  and  attended 
by  only  one  servant,  quitted  Hanover  for  ever. 
His  plot  had  failed  ;  there  was  nothing  else  to  be 
done.  The  rage  and  disappointment  when  the  news 
of  the  Prince's  departure  reached  the  Court  of  Berlin 
was  very  great.  The  King  blustered  and  swore, 
called  Wilhelmina  "  English  canaille,"  and  beat  her 
and  her  brother  in  a  shocking  manner  ;  the  Queen 
broke  down  and  took  to  her  bed  ;  Wilhelmina 
fainted  away.  But  it  was  all  to  no  purpose  ;  not 
only  her  marriage,  but  the  double  marriage  scheme, 
vanished  into  thin  air.1 

1  Wilhelmina  states  in  her  Memoirs  that  the  whole  thing  was  a 
plot  of  George  II.,  who  wished  to  find  an  excuse  for  keeping  his  son 
away  from  England  altogether,  but  the  candour  of  the  Queen  of 
Prussia  spoilt  it  all.  But  there  is  nothing  to  support  this  state- 


Frederick  did  not  find  a  warm  welcome  awaiting 
him  from  his  parents.  The  Prince  landed  in 
England  the  first  week  in  December  (1728),  and 
made  his  way  to  London  ;  he  arrived  at  St.  James's 
without  any  ceremony,  and  was  smuggled  up  the 
backstairs  as  though  he  had  been  a  pretender  rather 
than  the  heir-apparent  to  the  crown.  "  Yesterday," 
we  read,  "  His  Royal  Highness  Prince  Frederick 
came  to  Whitechapel  about  seven  in  the  evening, 
and  proceeded  thence  privately  in  a  hackney  coach 
to  St.  James's.  His  Royal  Highness  alighted  at 
the  Friary,  and  walked  down  to  the  Queen's  back- 
stairs, and  was  there  conducted  to  her  Majesty's 
apartment."  x 

It  must  have  been  a  strange  meeting  between 
mother  and  son.  The  Queen  received  him  amiably  ; 
the  succession  could  not  be  altered,  so  she  determined 
to  make  the  best  of  him,  but  the  King  was  very 
harsh.  George  had  an  unnatural  and  deep-rooted 
aversion  to  his  eldest  son,  whom  he  regarded  as 
necessarily  his  enemy.  This  peculiarity  was  heredi- 
tary in  the  House  of  Hanover  for  some  generations, 
for  the  Sovereign  and  his  first-born  were  always  at 
war  with  one  another.  Some  pity  must  be  extended 
to  the  young  Prince,  who  never  had  a  fair  chance. 
He  was  only  twenty-two  years  of  age  when  he  came 
to  England,  and  he  found  himself  among  strangers 
and  enemies  in  a  country  of  which  he  knew  nothing. 
He  was  very  shy  and  frightened  at  first,  and  his 
father's  manner  did  not  tend  to  reassure  him. 

1  Daily  Post,  5th  December,  1728. 


Lord  Hervey  says  that,  "  Whenever  the  Prince 
was  in  the  room  with  him  (the  King)  it  put  one 
in  mind  of  stories  that  one  has  heard  of  ghosts 
that  appear  to  part  of  the  company  but  are 
invisible  to  the  rest ;  and  in  this  manner,  wherever 
the  Prince  stood,  though  the  King  passed  him  ever 
so  often,  or  ever  so  near,  it  always  seemed  as  if  the 
King  thought  the  Prince  filled  a  void  of  space ". 
The  Prince  did  not  dine  in  public  at  St.  James's  the 
Sunday  after  his  arrival,  but  the  Queen  suffered  him  to 
hand  her  into  her  pew  at  the  Chapel  Royal,  and  this 
was  his  first  appearance  before  the  English  Court. 
But,  however  much  his  parents  might  slight  him,  the 
fact  remained  that  he  was,  by  Act  of  Parliament,  heir 
to  the  throne,  and,  through  the  insistence  of  the 
Privy  Council,  the  King  soon  after  his  arrival  created 
him  Prince  of  Wales.  But  he  was  careful  not  to 
give  him  the  allowance  of  ,£100,000  a  year  which 
had  been  voted  by  Parliament  for  the  Prince  of 
Wales  in  the  Civil  List.  True,  Parliament  had  given 
the  King  control  over  the  Prince's  income,  and  he 
exercised  it  by  giving  him  only  a  small  allowance. 
The  young  Prince  quickly  made  friends,  some  of 
them  not  of  a  very  desirable  character.  He  had 
been  taught  to  speak  English  fairly  well,  and  he 
had  pleasant  manners.  He  had  inherited  from  his 
mother  a  taste  for  letters,  and  he  also  possessed  the 
art  of  dissimulation  and  a  love  of  intrigue.  He  had 
not  the  slightest  affection  for  either  of  his  parents- 
how  could  he  have  ? — and  he  soon  began  to  deceive 
them,  a  task  in  which  he  found  plenty  to  help  him. 


Lady  Bristol  in  one  of  her  letters  gave  a  very 
flattering  account  of  him  as  being  "the  most 
agreeable  young  man  it  is  possible  to  imagine, 
without  being  the  least  handsome,  his  person  little, 
but  very  well  made  and  genteel,  a  loveliness  in  his 
eyes  that  is  indescribable,  and  the  most  obliging 
address  that  can  be  conceived."  The  poets  praised 
him  ;  and  one  sycophant  rhapsodised  over  him  as 
follows : — 

Fresh  as  a  rose-bud  newly  blown  and  fair 
As  op'ning  lilies  :  on  whom  every  eye 
With  joy  and  admiration  dwells.     See,  see 
He  rides  his  docile  barb  with  manly  grace. 
Is  it  Adonis  for  the  chase  arrayed 
Or  Britain's  second  hope? 

The  first  hope  presumably  was  the  King,  the 
other  hopes  were  the  rest  of  the  royal  children. 
They  were  not  a  lovable  family,  nor  was  there  any 
love  lost  among  them.  They  disliked  one  another 
thoroughly,  but,  with  the  exception  of  Frederick, 
they  were  all  devoted  to  their  mother,  and  they  all 
united,  Frederick  included,  in  disliking  their  father, 
who  on  his  part  disliked  them.  The  King  had 
rarely  a  kind  word  for  any  of  his  children,  and  in 
his  old  age  he  admitted  it.  "  I  know  I  did  not  love 
my  children,"  he  said.  "When  they  were  young  I 
hated  to  have  them  running  about  the  room."  Caro- 
line, on  the  other  hand,  was  devoted  to  all  her 
children,  except  the  Prince  of  Wales,  whom  long 
absence  had  estranged  from  her.  One  of  her  first 
acts  after  becoming  Queen  was  to  dismiss  the  state 
governess,  and  have  her  daughters  educated  under 


her  immediate  supervision.  She  was  a  Spartan 
mother,  and  a  firm  believer  in  the  proverb  :  "  Spare 
the  rod,  spoil  the  child ".  The  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough  relates  how  on  one  occasion  when  she  went 
to  see  the  Queen,  then  Princess  of  Wales,  she  found 
her  chastising  little  Prince  William,  who  was  roaring 
and  kicking  lustily.  The  Prince  was  looking  on  com- 
plaisantly.  The  duchess  tried  to  soothe  the  youthful 
delinquent.  "  Ah,  see, '  cried  George  Augustus, 
"you  English  are  none  of  you  well-bred,  because 
you  were  not  whipped  when  you  were  young. " 
"  Umph  ! "  quoth  her  Grace.  She  afterwards  said, 
"  I  thought  to  myself,  I  am  sure  you  could  not  have 

been  whipped  when  you  were  young,  but  I  choked 

• .  •    » 
it  in   . 

Anne,  Princess  Royal,  was  now  in  her  twentieth 
year.  She  had  little  beauty,  and  her  figure  was  short 
and  squat,  but  she  had  fair  abilities  and  several 
accomplishments ;  she  could  paint  well,  speak  three 
languages,  and  was  an  excellent  musician.  Her 
favourite  recreation  was  the  opera,  and  she  loved  to 
get  professional  singers  and  players  around  her,  and 
practise  with  them.  She  was  vain  and  ambitious, 
and  once  told  her  mother  that  she  wished  she  had 
no  brothers,  so  that  she  might  succeed  to  the  throne. 
On  the  Queen's  reproving  her,  she  said  :  "I  would 
die  to-morrow  to  be  Queen  to-day".  Unfortunately 
for  her  ambition,  heirs  to  thrones  or  reigning  mon- 
archs  were  in  no  wise  attracted  to  her,  and  so  far  no 
eligible  candidate  for  her  hand  had  come  forward. 
The  Queen  also  once  rebuked  her  for  her  lack  of 


consideration  to  her  ladies.  She  noticed  one  morn- 
ing that  she  kept  her  lady  standing  for  a  long 
time,  conversing  with  her  on  some  trifling  matter, 
while  she  herself  remained  seated.  In  the  evening 
Anne  came  to  her  mother  to  read  to  her  and  was 
about  to  sit  down.  "  No,  my  dear,"  said  the 
Queen,  "  you  must  not  sit  down  at  present,  I 
intend  to  keep  you  standing  for  as  long  a  time 
as  you  kept  Lady  -  -  in  the  same  position  this 

The  second  daughter,  Princess  Amelia,  or  Emily, 
as  she  was  more  generally  called,  was  better  looking 
than  her  sister  and  far  cleverer.  In  her  youth  she 
had  considerable  pretensions  to  beauty,  and  her 
ready  wit  made  her  the  most  popular  of  the  prin- 
cesses. "  The  Princess  Amelia,"  writes  Lady 
Pomfret  enthusiastically  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  "  is  the 
oddest,  or  at  least  one  of  the  oddest  princesses 
that  ever  was  known  ;  she  has  her  ears  shut  to 
flattery  and  her  heart  open  to  honesty.  She  has 
honour,  justice,  good-nature,  sense,  wit,  resolution, 
and  more  good  qualities  than  I  have  time  to  tell 
you,  so  mixed  that  (if  one  is  not  a  devil]  it  is  im- 
possible to  say  she  has  too  much  or  too  little  of  any  ; 
yet  all  these  do  not  in  anything  (without  exception) 
make  her  forget  the  King  of  England's  daughter, 
which  dignity  she  keeps  up  with  such  an  obliging 
behaviour  that  she  charms  everybody.  Do  not 
believe  her  complaisance  to  me  makes  me  say  one 
silible  more  than  the  rigid  truth  ;  though  I  confess 
she  has  gained  my  heart  and  has  added  one  more 


to  the  number  of  those  few  whose  desert  forces  one's 
affection."  l 

This  paragon  of  a  princess  had  been  the  des- 
tined bride  of  the  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia  after- 
wards Frederick  the  Great,  but  as  the  double 
marriage  scheme  fell  through  she  continued  single. 
Several  minor  German  princes  offered  themselves, 
but  she  did  not  think  them  worthy  of  her  acceptance. 
Yet  she  was  far  from  indifferent  to  admiration,  and 
had  a  liking  for  men's  society.  She  was  of  a  mascu- 
line turn  of  mind,  and  her  happiest  hours  were 
passed  in  the  hunting  field,  and  the  stables  and 
kennels.  She  liked  to  spend  much  time  with  her 
horses  and  discuss  their  points  minutely  with  the 
grooms,  and  one  Sunday  she  shocked  the  good 
people  of  Hampton  Court  by  going  to  church  in  a 
riding  costume  with  a  dog  under  each  arm.  She 
shared  her  father's  passion  for  hunting,  and  was  a 
far  better  rider  than  he.  She  used  to  hunt  in  a 
costume  which  was  masculine  rather  than  feminine, 
and  rode  hard  and  fearlessly,  followed  by  her  favour- 
ite groom,  Spurrier.  There  is  a  curious  portrait  of 
her  in  a  round  hunting  cap  and  laced  scarlet  coat, 
which  makes  her  look  like  a  man.  She  had  flir- 
tations with  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  the  Duke 
of  Grafton  ;  that  with  the  latter  was  serious.  It 
went  on  for  a  long  time,  and  the  Princess  seems 
really  to  have  been  attached  to  him,  though  he  was 
much  older  than  she. 

Countess  of  Pomfret  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  22nd  April,  1728. 
Sundon  Correspondence. 


The  Duke  of  Grafton,  the  Lord  Chamberlain, 
was  a  grandson  of  Charles  the  Second,  and  had  the 
personal  beauty  and  charm  of  manner  characteristic 
of  the  Fitzroys.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  attentions 
to  the  Princess,  and  she  received  them  with  a  great 
deal  of  favour.  Queen  Caroline  was  annoyed  at 
what  she  considered  was  the  duke's  presumption 
in  aspiring  to  be  her  daughter's  lover.  She  also 
resented  his  familiar  manner  towards  herself;  he 
frequently  addressed  her  as  though  he  were  her 
equal,  and  indeed  he  considered  himself  to  be  a  scion 
of  royalty.  He  once  told  her  that  he  believed  it 
was  not  in  her  nature  to  love  any  one,  to  which  she 
replied:  "But  I  love  the  King".  He  answered: 
"  By  God,  ma'am,  I  do  not  know,  but  if  I  were 
King  of  France  I  would  soon  find  out  whether  you 
did  or  not".  He  used  to  tease  her  also  with  the 
tale  that  she  was  in  love  with  some  German 
prince  before  her  marriage  to  the  Electoral  Prince 
of  Hanover,  and  ended  by  saying  :  "  God,  ma'am, 
I  wish  I  could  see  the  man  you  could  love ".  As 
she  could  not  repress  him,  Caroline  affected  to 
treat  these  familiarities  as  a  joke,  but  she  secretly 
resented  them.  She  did  her  best  to  put  an  end  to 
the  intimacy  between  her  daughter  and  the  duke, 
but  without  much  effect.  The  Princess  Amelia 
and  the  duke  would  go  a-hunting  together  two 
or  three  times  a  week,  and  frequently  rode  away 
from  the  rest  of  the  party.  On  one  occasion  at 
Windsor  their  attendants  lost  them  altogether,  and 
they  did  not  return  to  the  castle  until  long  after  it 




was  dark.  It  was  said  that  they  had  gone  together 
to  a  private  house  in  Windsor  forest  and  there 
remained.  The^King  was  absent  from  England  at 
the  time  this  happened,  but  the  Queen  was  highly 
incensed,  and  soundly  rated  Amelia  on  her  im- 
prudence. She  would  have  complained  to  the  King 
about  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  but  Walpole  dissuaded 
her  from  doing  so.  The  duke  would  not  have  cared, 
and  it  would  have  done  the  princess  harm. 

The  year  after  the  King's  accession  to  the 
throne  Princess  Amelia  went  to  Bath  to  drink  the 
waters,  attended  by  Lady  Pomfret.  Royal  visits 
to  Bath  were  as  yet  few  and  far  between,  indeed 
the  only  royal  personages  who  had  visited  Bath 
before  the  Princess  were  Queen  Anne  (before  she 
came  to  the  throne)  with  her  husband  Prince  George 
of  Denmark.1  Princess  Amelia  was  received  by  the 
Mayor  and  Corporation  in  full  state,  and  a  hundred 
young  men  on  horseback  met  her  coach  at  the 
North  Gate  and  formed  an  escort  to  her  lodgings. 
Bath  had  already  become  a  gay  and  fashionable 
place,  and  many  persons  of  quality  and  of  no 
quality  at  all,  who  suffered  from  gout,  rheumatism, 
the  results  of  dissipation,  or  that  mysterious  ailment 
which  the  ladies  of  the  eighteenth  century  called 
"vapours,"  flocked  thither  to  drink  the  waters  and 

1  Thackeray  says  in  his  Four  Georges  :  "  As  for  Bath,  all  history 
went  and  bathed  and  drank  there  ;  George  II.  and  his  Queen,"  etc. 
In  point  of  fact,  neither  George  II.  nor  Queen  Caroline  went  to 
Bath.  Princess  Amelia  went  in  1728;  the  Prince  of  Orange  in  1734* 
the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  in  1738,  and  Princesses  Caroline 
and  Mary  in  1840. 

VOL.   II.  7 


kill  the  time.  The  pump  room  and  assembly 
rooms  were  ''elegantly  fitted"  and  a  band  played 
daily.  Breakfast  parties  were  much  the  vogue  at 
"one  and  twenty  pence  a  piece,"  and  the  forenoon 
was  passed  in  drinking  the  waters  and  listening 
to  the  concert.  In  the  afternoon  there  were  the 
bowling  greens  and  the  promenade  in  the  gardens 
skirting  the  river,  the  toy  shops  and  the  coffee- 
houses where  the  beau  monde  loitered,  drinking 
"  dishes  of  tea"  and  eating  Bath  buns.  In  the  even- 
ing there  were  cards  and  dancing — and  there  was 
scandal  all  day  long.  Bath  was  then  under  the 
reign  of  "  King"  Nash,  who  had  become  its  arbiter 
elegantiarum.  Opinions  differ  as  to  the  services 
Nash  rendered  to  Bath.  Some  say  he  made  the 
place ;  others  that  he  merely  cloaked  the  grossness 
and  licentiousness  of  the  fashionable  world  there  by 
throwing  over  it  a  garb  of  mock  ceremony.  Certainly 
Bath  was  a  hotbed  of  gambling,  and  many  undesir- 
able characters  were  attracted  thither  simply  by  the 
high  play. 

Princess  Amelia's  arrival  caused  quite  a  flutter 
in  the  gay  world  of  Bath.  She  took  the  waters  in 
the  morning,  and  after  drinking  them  strolled  in 
Harrison's  walks,  all  the  men  and  women  of  fashion 
following  after  her  or  keeping  within  a  respectful 
distance.  But  there  was  one  who  would  not  pay 
her  homage,  and  she  was  Lady  Wigtown,  a  Jacobite 
peeress.  One  day  in  the  public  garden  Lady  Wig- 
town met  the  Princess  face  to  face,  and  without 
taking  the  slightest  notice  of  her,  she  pushed  aside 


the  ladies-in-waiting  and  walked  past.  Of  this  in- 
cident Lady  Pomfret  writes  to  Mrs.  Clayton  :  "  Lady 
Frances  Manners  asked  me  if  I  knew  my  Lady 
Wigtown  (a  Scottish  countess).  I  said  I  had  never 
heard  of  her  in  my  life,  and  believed  she  had  not 
yet  sent  to  the  Princess  ;  upon  which  both  she  and 
the  Duchess  of  Rutland  smiled,  and  said  :  '  No, 
nor  will,  I  can  tell  you  ;  for  seeing  the  Princess 
coming  to  the  pump  the  morning  before,  she  had 
run  away  like  a  Fury  for  fear  of  seeing  her  ;  and 
declares  so  public  an  aversion  for  the  King,  etc., 
that  she  would  not  go  to  the  ball  made  on  the 
Queen's  birthday  ;  and  some  of  that  subscription 
money  remaining,  the  company  had  another  ball, 
which  she  denied  going  to,  and  told  all  the  people 
it  was  because  the  Queen's  money  made  it'."1 

These  balls  began  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
and  were  under  the  direction  of  Beau  Nash,  who 
commanded  that  they  should  be  over  by  eleven  at  the 
latest.  When  the  first  stroke  of  the  hour  sounded 
the  Beau  waved  his  wand,  and  the  music  ceased, 
though  it  were  in  the  middle  of  a  dance.  Once  the 
Princess  Amelia  objected  to  this  summary  ending. 
"  One  more  dance,  Mr.  Nash  ;  remember  I  am 
Princess."  "  Yes,  madam,  but  I  reign  here  and  my 
law  must  be  kept." 

It  was  creditable  to  the  Princess  Amelia  that 
Lady  Wigtown's  rudeness  made  no  difference  to 
her  courtesy  to  the  other  Jacobites  and  Roman 

Countess  of  Pomfret   to   Mrs.  Clayton,  Bath,  6th  May 


Catholics,  of  whom  just  then  Bath  was  full.  Acting 
under  instruction  from  her  mother,  she  had  a  gracious 
word  and  a  smile  for  all  of  them  who  came  her 
way.  Among  others  were  the  unfortunate  Lord 
Widdrington  and  his  lady.  Lord  Widdrington  was 
one  of  the  Jacobite  peers  condemned  to  death  for 
the  part  they  had  taken  in  the  rising  of  '15,  but  he 
was  ultimately  pardoned,  though  his  estates  were 
forfeited.  He  brought  his  broken  health  and  ruined 
fortunes  to  Bath,  where  he  was  living  in  compara- 
tive poverty  when  the  Princess  Amelia  came  there. 
The  Princess  noticed  Lady  Widdrington  in  the 
Pump  Room,  and  asked  who  she  was.  When  she 
was  told  she  talked  to  her,  walked  with  her,  and 
generally  took  much  notice  of  her.  "Her  kindness," 
writes  Lady  Pomfret,  "  had  such  an  effect  upon  all 
that  sort  [Jacobites]  in  this  city  that  is  hardly  to  be 
imagined,  and  they  all  speak  of  the  Princess  Amelia 
as  of  something  that  has  charmed  them  ever  since." 
But  another  lady  in  waiting,  Mrs.  Tichburne,  was 
perturbed  lest  the  Princess's  graciousness  to  a 
"rebel's  wife"  should  be  misunderstood,  and  Lady 
Pomfret  thought  well  to  ask  Mrs.  Clayton  to  explain 
matters  to  the  Queen.  She  need  not  have  troubled, 
for  the  Princess  had  only  done  as  the  Queen  wished. 
It  is  a  pity  that  we  cannot  take  leave  of  the 
Princess  Amelia  with  this  pleasing  illustration  of 
her  amiability.  But  truth  compels  us  to  add  that 
as  she  grew  older  her  character  sadly  deteriorated. 
She  developed  into  a  hard,  mean,  inquisitive  woman, 
and  was  often  insolent  without  provocation.  Per- 


haps  this  was  due  to  the  crossing  of  her  young 
affections,  and  her  nature,  driven  back  upon  itself, 
grew  warped  in  the  cramped  atmosphere  of  the 
court.  In  later  life  Bath  continued  to  be  a  favourite 
resort  of  the  Princess  Amelia,  for  here  she  could 
indulge  in  her  love  of  cards  and  scandal  without 
let  or  hindrance  ;  she  used  to  play  night  after  night 
for  very  high  stakes,  refreshing  herself  with  pinches 
of  snuff  during  the  game.  One  night  when  she  was 
playing  in  the  public  card  room  at  Bath  an  old  gen- 
eral, who  was  seated  next  her,  ventured  to  take  a 
pinch  of  snuff  out  of  her  box,  which  stood  by  him 
on  the  table.  She  haughtily  stared  at  him  without 
making  any  remark,  and  then  beckoning  to  her 
footman,  ordered  him  to  throw  the  snuff  in  the 
fire  and  bring  her  a  fresh  box.  Little  peculiarities 
like  this  did  not  tend  to  make  her  popular,  and 
she  grew  to  be  generally  disliked.  She  lived  far 
into  the  reign  of  her  nephew  George  the  Third,  and 
died  unmarried. 

The  third  daughter,  Princess  Caroline,  was  of 
a  very  different  disposition  to  her  elder  sisters  ;  she 
had  no  beauty,  and  suffered  from  delicate  health, 
but  she  had  much  quiet  goodness  and  unobtrusive 
piety.  When  she  was  a  child  her  parents  used  to 
say  of  her  :  "  Send  for  Caroline,  and  then  we  shall 
know  the  truth  ".  She  was  the  Queen's  favourite 
daughter,  and  was  greatly  attached  to  her.  Con- 
stantly with  her  mother,  she  was  thrown  a  good 
deal  into  the  companionship  of  Lord  Hervey,  and 
conceived  for  him  a  deep  and  lasting  love,  a  most 


unfortunate  attachment,  as  Lord  Hervey  was  by  no 
means  a  worthy  object  for  her  devotion,  even  if  he 
had  been  able  to  requite  it  properly,  which  he  could 
not,  as  he  was  married  to  the  beautiful  Lepel.  Her 
attachment  flattered  his  vanity,  and  he  must  have 
secretly  encouraged  it.  The  hopelessness  of  her 
passion  made  no  difference  to  the  gentle  Princess ; 
she  continued  to  cherish  it  until  Lord  Hervey's 
death,  and  even  after  his  death  she  testified  her 
devotion  to  his  memory  by  showing  great  kind- 
ness to  his  children.  After  she  lost  her  mother 
she  became  a  confirmed  invalid,  and  spent  her  life 
in  retirement  and  works  of  benevolence.  She  died 

William,  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  second 
surviving  son  of  George  the  Second  and  Caroline, 
was  at  the  time  they  came  to  the  throne  a  boy, 
and  had  not  yet  developed  those  unamiable  quali- 
ties he  displayed  in  later  life,  which  earned  for  him 
undying  infamy  as  "  the  butcher  of  Culloden  ".  He 
was  a  precocious  youth,  very  grave  and  solemn  in 
his  demeanour,  not  caring  to  play  like  other  boys, 
but  preferring  to  mope  in  a  corner  over  a  book,  or 
to  gaze  at  uniforms  and  military  evolutions — for 
quite  early  in  life  he  showed  a  strong  predilection 
for  the  army.  Some  characteristic  anecdotes  are 
related  of  his  early  years.  When  a  child  he  was 
taken  on  one  of  his  birthdays  to  see  his  grand- 
father, George  the  First.  The  King  asked  him  at 
what  time  he  got  up  in  the  morning  ;  the  young 
duke  replied :  "  When  the  chimney-sweepers  are 


about".  The  King  asked:  "Vat  are  de  chimney- 
sweepers "  ?  "  Have  you  been  so  long  in  England," 
said  his  grandson,  "and  do  not  know  what  a 
chimney-sweep  is  ?  Why,  he  is  like  that  man 
there  ; "  and  he  pointed  to  Lord  Finch,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Winchelsea  and  Nottingham,  who  was  in 
attendance.  Lord  Finch,  like  the  rest  of  his  family, 
"the  black  funereal  Finches,"  had  a  very  swarthy 
complexion,  and  after  this  he  was  generally  known 
by  the  nickname  of  "  The  Chimney  Sweep  ".  On 
another  occasion,  after  a  display  of  temper,  his 
mother  ordered  the  duke  to  be  locked  up  in  his 
room.  When  he  came  out  he  was  downcast  and 
sullen.  "  William,"  inquired  the  Queen,  "  what  have 
you  been  doing  ? "  "  Reading,"  he  said  shortly. 
"Reading  what?"  "The  Bible."  "And  what 
did  you  read  there  ?  "  "  About  Jesus  and  Mary." 
"  And  what  about  them  ? "  asked  the  Queen. 
"Why,"  replied  William,  "that  Jesus  said  to  Mary : 
'  Woman,  what  hast  thou  to  do  with  me  ?  ' 

Lady  Strafford  has  left  an  account  of  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland's  birthday  reception,  a  sort  of  chil- 
dren's party  which  represents  the  young  prince  in 
a  more  amiable  light : — 

"My  love"  (her  son,  Lord  Wentworth),  she 
writes,  "is  perfectly  well  and  vastly  delighted  with 
his  Court  ball.  I  took  him  to  Court  in  the  morning, 
and  the  Queen  cried  out :  '  Oh  !  Lord  Wentworth  ! 
how  do  you  do  ?  you  have  mightily  grown  •  My 
lady,  he  is  prodigiously  well  dressed.  I  hope  you 
will  let  him  come  to  our  ball  to  night.'  After  the 


drawing-room  was  over  the  duke  had  a  levte  in  his 
own  room,  so  I  desired  my  brother  to  take  him 
there,  and  the  duke  told  him  he  hoped  he  would 
do  him  the  favour  to  come  at  night.  But  as  a  great 
misfortune  Lady  Deloraine  fell  in  labour,  and  was 
just  brought  to  bed  of  a  dead  son  ;  so  they  could 
not  have  the  room  they  used  to  dance  in  (it  being 
next  to  hers),  so  they  had  a  bad  little  room  and  they 
did  not  dance  French  dances.  Princess  Amelia 
asked  Lord  Wentworth  to  dance  one  with  her, 
and  afterwards  the  duke  gave  him  Lady  Caroline 
Fitzroy  for  his  partner.  They  had  a  supper  of  cold 
chicken,  tongue,  jelly  and  sweetmeats,  but  they  were 
(served)  in  an  odd  manner,  for  they  had  neither 
knives  nor  plates,  so  that  well  as  my  love  loves 
eating,  he  says  he  ate  but  a  leg  of  a  chicken,  for  he 
says  he  did  not  (think)  it  looked  well  to  be  pulling 
greasy  bones  about  in  a  room  full  of  princesses ; 
the  way  of  getting  rid  of  the  bones  was  the  chil- 
dren threw  them  out  of  the  window.  The  King 
was  present  to  see  them  dance,  but  not  the 
Queen.  The  ball  ended  about  half  an  hour  after 
ten.  The  duke  was  quite  free  and  easy,  and  ex- 
tremely civil." 

Of  the  two  younger  princesses,  Mary  and  Louisa, 
there  is  little  to  be  said,  as  they  were  children 
during  their  mother's  lifetime.  Mary,  like  her  sister 
Caroline,  was  of  a  soft  and  gentle  disposition.  Some 
years  after  her  mother's  death  she  was  married  to 
Frederick,  Hereditary  Prince  of  Hesse-Cassel,  an 
obstinate,  ill-tempered  prince,  who  treated  his  wife 


with  cruelty  and  infidelity,  and  her  life  was  a  very 
unhappy  one.  She  survived  her  husband  a  few 

Princess  Louisa,  the  youngest  of  them  all,  was  by 
far  the  most  beautiful  of  Queen  Caroline's  daughters, 
and  inherited  her  mother's  abilities  and  accomplish- 
ments. She  married  Frederick,  Crown  Prince  of 
Denmark,  and  in  due  time  became  Queen  of  Den- 
mark. Her  married  life  was  not  altogether  happy, 
but  she  had  her  mother's  philosophy  and  made 
the  best  of  it.  She  died  of  the  same  illness  as 
Queen  Caroline,  and  curiously  enough  from  the 
same  cause — concealing  the  nature  of  her  malady 
until  it  was  too  late. 

Though  the  King  enjoyed  an  enormous  Civil 
List  he  was  exceedingly  mean  to  his  children.  To 
his  daughters,  though  three  of  them  had  now  grown 
up,  he  gave  little  or  nothing.  Anne  and  Amelia 
were  often  in  need  of  pocket-money,  and  not  above 
borrowing  of  the  people  about  the  court.  Their 
dress  allowance  was  exceedingly  small,  and  if  their 
mother  had  not  helped  them,  they  would  scarcely 
have  been  able  to  make  a  presentable  appearance 
at  their  father's  drawing-rooms.  There  is  a  curious 
old  paper  extant,1  endorsed  "  Mrs.  Powis,"  who  was 
probably  dresser  to  the  Princesses,  which  gives 
some  idea  of  their  wardrobe.  The  following  extracts 
may  be  quoted  : — 

"  What  was  delivered  yearly  for  each  Princess 
{Anne,  Amelia  and  Caroline']  : 

1  In  the  Manuscript  Department,  British  Museum. 


"  Winter  Clothes  :— 

Two  coats  embroider'd,  one  trim'd  or  rich  stuff,  and  one  velvet  or 

rich  silk  without. 
Three  coats  brocaded  or  damask. 
A  damask  night-gown. 
Two  silk  under  petecoats,  trim'd  with  gold  or  silver. 

"  Summer  Clothes  : — 

Three  flower'd  coats,  one  of  them  with  silver. 

Three  plain  or  stripped  lastrings. 

One  night-gown  and  four  silk  hoops. 

Shoes  :  a  pair  every  week. 

Gloves:  sixteen  dozen  in  the  year;  i8s.  per  dozen. 

Tans :    no  allowance,  but  they  did  not  exceed  eight  guineas  per 

Mouslines  and  lawns  were  bought  as  wanted,  no  settled  price. 

"  Sundries  : — 

No  certain  allowance  for  ribbons  or  artificial  flowers. 

Powder,  patches,  combs,  pins,  quilted  caps,  band  boxes,  wax,  pens 

and  paper,  came  to  about  £40  per  annum  for  the  three  princesses, 

paste  for  hands  and  pomatum  came  from  the  apothecary,  Mr. 

Tagar,  and  did  not  come  into  my  bill. 
I  paid  the  tire  woman  129  guineas  a  year. 
I  paid  for  tuning  the  harpsichord,  food  for  their  birds,  and  many 

other  little  things  belonging  to  their  Royal  Highnesses,  which 

were  too  trifling  to  mention,  which  whilst  the  Duke  was  with 

them  came  to  £50  per  annum. 
Their  Royal  Highnesses  had  each  a  page  of  honour  and  gentleman 

usher  at  £100  sallary. 
Each  one  had  a  dresser  at   £50,  and  one  chambermaid,  I  do  not 

know  at  what  sallary. 
Also  one  page  of  the  backstairs. 
The  Princesses  used  the  Queen's  coaches,  footmen  and  grooms." 

The  Princesses  led  singularly  idle,  purposeless 
lives  ;  Anne  and  Amelia  chiefly  occupied  themselves 
with  card-playing  and  the  petty  intrigues  of  the 
court,  and  the  way  their  father  treated  them  led 
them  early  to  lie  and  practise  the  arts  of  dissimu- 
lation. Even  Princess  Caroline,  when  we  have 


credited  her  with  all  the  virtues,  remains  a  colourless 
nonentity.  The  Princesses  always  appeared  at  court 
festivities  and  took  part  in  whatever  was  going  on, 
and  the  Queen  would  often  relax  some  of  the  stiffness 
of  etiquette  for  the  benefit  of  the  young  people.  For 
instance,  sometimes  after  the  evening  drawing-rooms 
she  would  turn  the  function  into  a  ball.  We  read  : — 

"On  Monday  night  His  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Princess  Royal  opened  a 
ball  at  Court  with  a  minuet,  and  afterwards  they 
danced  several  set  dances  with  several  of  the  quality 
till  between  four  and  five  o'clock  next  morning. 
Her  Majesty  was  richly  dressed,  and  wore  a 
flowered  muslin  hood  with  an  edging.  The  Princess 
Royal  had  the  like,  which  makes  it  believed  that 
muslins  will  come  into  fashion.  There  never  was 
seen  so  great  an  appearance,  either  for  number  or 
magnificence  as  on  the  like  occasion."  1 

Nor  was  the  King  to  be  outdone  in  the  splen- 
dour of  his  attire  ;  indeed  he  outshone  the  Queen, 
for  he  loved  dress  and  display  far  more.  We  read  : 
"His  Majesty  appeared  in  a  suit  of  crimson  velvet 
with  gold  buttons  and  button  holes,  sleeves  faced 
with  rich  tissue,  and  a  waistcoat  of  the  same." 

The  great  days  at  court  were  the  royal  birth- 
days. The  birthdays  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  and 
all  the  royal  children  were  duly  celebrated.  The 
Queen's  birthdays  were  always  largely  attended,  and 
so  were  the  King's  at  the  beginning  of  the  reign. 
But  after  his  visits  to  Hanover  he  became  very  un- 

1  Daily  Advertiser,  3rd  March,  1731. 


popular,  and  he  noted  with  ire  that  not  only  was  the 
attendance  meagre  at  his  drawing-rooms,  but  there 
were  no  new  clothes  for  the  occasion.  If  any  of  the 
great  nobility  absented  themselves  from  the  drawing- 
rooms  for  any  time,  as  some  occasionally  thought  fit 
to  do,  they  were  generally  conciliated  by  the  Queen 
and  persuaded  to  put  in  an  appearance  again.  The 
birthday  drawing-rooms  were  chiefly  remarkable  for 
the  splendour  of  the  clothes,  every  one  appearing  in 
his  best,  and  even  the  royal  footmen  being  arrayed 
in  new  liveries.  "  There  was  his  Majesty  in  scarlet 
and  gold,"  writes  a  correspondent;  "the  Duke  of 
Cumberland  in  blue  trimmed  with  silver ;  the 
Princess  Anne  in  silver  and  colours  of  yellow ;  the 
Princess  Louisa  in  a  dark  green  velvet,  embroidered 
in  gold  ;  my  Lady  Browne  in  scarlet,  with  great 
roses  not  unlike  large  silver  soup  plates,  made  in  an 
old  silver  lace,  and  spotted  all  over  her  gown." 

But  these  were  great  occasions  ;  in  the  ordinary 
way  the  private  life  of  the  court  was  dull,  even  in 
these  early  days  of  the  reign,  and  there  was  little 
doing  except  ombre  or  quadrille.  Peter  Wentworth, 
who  was  now  one  of  the  Queen's  equerries  and  was 
sometimes  in  attendance  on  the  Prince  of  Wales 
and  sometimes  on  the  Princess  Royal,  gives  a  fair 
description  of  how  the  Royal  Family  spent  their 
evenings.  Writing  to  his  brother  Lord  Strafford, 
he  says  :— 

"  The  quadrille  table  is  well  known,  and  there  is 
a  large  table  surrounded  by  my  master  (the  Prince 
of  Wales),  the  Princesses,  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 


land,  the  bedchamber  ladies,  Lord  Lumley,  and  all 
the  belle-assemblte,  at  a  most  stupid  game,  to  my 
mind,  lottery  ticket.  ^100  is  sometimes  lost  at  this 
pastime.  The  maids  play  below  with  the  King  in 
Mrs.  Howard's  apartment,  and  the  moment  they 
come  up,  the  Queen  starts  up  and  goes  into  her 
.  apartment.  .  .  .  T'other  night  Lord  Grantham  and 
the  Queen  had  a  dispute  about  going  to  a  room 
without  passing  by  the  backstairs  ;  she  bade  him 
go  and  see  ;  he  did,  and  came  back  as  positive  as 
before.  4  Well,'  says  she,  '  will  you  go  along  with 
me  if  I  show  you  the  way  ?  '  '  Yes,  madam,'  says 
he.  Up  she  starts,  and  trots  away  with  one  candle, 
and  came  back  triumphant  over  my  Lord  Grantham. 
The  belle-assembUe  was  in  an  uproar,  thinking  the 
King  was  ill,  when  I  told  them  'twas  a  wager  be- 
tween the  Queen  and  my  Lord  Grantham."  * 

The  Queen  was  fond  of  these  little  jokes,  for 
on  another  occasion  we  find  Peter  Wentworth 
writing  :  "  Sunday,  in  the  evening  the  Queen  com- 
manded me  to  order  her  a  chaise  and  one  horse,  and 
a  coach  and  six  to  follow,  for  Monday,  at  six  o'clock 
in  the  morn,  and  six  Life  Guards  and  two  Grena- 
diers, and  your  humble  servant  a-horseback,  which 
was  to  be  kept  a  great  secret.  When  I  had  put 
her  Majesty  into  her  chaise  with  Princess  Mary,  she 
bid  me  ride  and  tell  the  Colonel  of  the  Guard  not 
to  beat  the  drum  as  she  passed  out  [of  St.  James's]. 
We  drove  to  the  foot  ferry  at  Kew,  where  there 

Hon.   Peter   Wentworth  to  the  Earl  of   Strafford,   loth 
August,  1730. 


was  a  barge  of  four  oars  which  carried  her  Majesty, 
Princess  Mary,  Mrs.  Purcell  and  I  to  the  Queen's 
house  at  Kew.  The  whole  joke  of  keeping  this  a 
secret  was  upon  Lord  Lifford,  who  had  said  'twas 
impossible  for  her  Majesty  to  go  out  at  any  time 
but  he  should  know  it.  When  we  came  there, 
therefore,  the  Queen  sent  for  the  other  Princesses, 
Lord  Hervey  and  Lord  Lifford  to  breakfast  with 
her.  Lord  Hervey,  Princess  Caroline  and  Princess 
Louisa  came  before  ten  ;  the  Queen,  Mrs.  Purcell 
and  I  walked  twice  round  the  garden  before  they 
came.  We  had  a  fine  breakfast,  with  the  addition 
of  cherries  and  strawberries  we  plucked  from  the 
garden,  some  of  which  the  Queen  gave  me  with  her 
own  hand ;  and  said  to  Lord  Hervey  Cest  un  tres 
bon  enfant,  and  repeated  it  several  times,  Lord 
Hervey  assenting.  I  never  suspected  she  spoke  of 
me,  which  she,  perceiving,  said  in  English  :  'We 
are  speaking  of  you  ;  you  know  I  love  you,  and 
you  shall  know  I  love,  I  do  really  love  you'.  I 
made  low  bows,  but  had  not  the  impromptu  wit 
nor  assurance  to  make  any  other  answer." 1 

And  again : — 

"  On  Saturday  when  the  Queen  was  at  Kew, 
the  Blue  Horse  Guards  in  stocks  stood  sentry  there. 
As  she  goes  up  the  court  she  says  to  Lord  Lifford 
and  me :  'I'll  lay  you  what  you  will  he  of  the  right 
is  a  Scotsman,  and  he  of  the  left  an  Englishman  and 
a  Yorkshireman  '.  When  she  came  up  to  them,  she 

aThe  Hon.  Peter  Wentworth  to  the  Earl  of  Stratford,  London 
3rd  June,  1735. 


asked  him  of  the  right,  who  was  a  handsome  young 
fellow  and  a  gentleman  volunteer  :  '  What  country- 
man are  you?'  'A  Scotsman,  your  Majesty.' 
'What's  your  name?'  'Hamilton.'  'Of  what 
family  ? '  '  The  dukes  of  that  name.'  '  How  long 
have  you  been  in  the  regiment  ? '  '  Ever  since  it 
has  been  the  Duke  of  Argyll's.'  Then  she  turns 
to  t'other  man,  and  asks  what  countryman  he  was  ? 
'An  Englishman,  your  Majesty.'  'Your  name?' 
'  Hill.'  '  What  county  ? '  '  Yorkshire.'  The  Queen 
was  pleased  and  so  was  I,  for  I  would  always  have 
her  pleased,  and  turned  about  to  my  lord  and  me, 
and  said:  '  N'est-ce  pas  que  j'ay  dit  vray?  Je 
connais  bien  la  physiognomic.' ' 




IN  May,  1729,  the  King,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  anxious  to  visit  his  Hanoverian  dominions, 
which  he  had  not  seen  since  1714,  got  a  short  Act 
passed  through  Parliament  appointing  the  Queen  to 
act  as  Regent  in  his  absence.  The  King's  visit  to 
Hanover  was  very  unpopular  with  his  English  sub- 
jects, who  hoped  that  they  had  heard  of  the  last 
of  these  journeys  when  George  the  First  died.  As 
Prince  of  Wales,  George  the  Second  had  always 
declared  that  he  loved  England  far  better  than 
Hanover,  but  this  was  only  in  opposition  to  his 
father,  and  soon  after  he  ascended  the  throne  he 
avowed  himself  strongly  Hanoverian  in  his  tastes 
and  found  fault  with  everything  in  England.  In 
this  mood  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to 
return  to  his  own  country  for  a  time,  and  Wai- 
pole  no  doubt  was  glad  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way,  while  the  Queen  eagerly  grasped  at  the  author- 
ity which  the  deed  of  regency  granted  her.  But 
she  showed  none  of  this  eagerness  to  the  King, 
and  when  he  announced  his  intention  of  leaving 


England  she  deplored  his  absence  with  tears,  and 
received  his  commission  on  her  knees  with  all  due 
humility.  The  King  gave  the  royal  assent  to  the 
Act  of  Regency  on  May  i4th,  and  three  days 
later  he  set  out  for  Hanover,  accompanied  by  a 
numerous  retinue,  and  Lord  Townshend  as  Minister 
in  attendance. 

The  Queen  appointed  the  Speaker  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  Onslow,  to  be  her  Chancellor  during 
her  Regency,  and  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal.  She 
held  her  first  Council  as  Regent  five  days  after  the 
King  left.  It  was  reported  in  the  London  Gazette 
as  follows : — 

"At  the  Court  at  Kensington  the  22nd  day  of 
May,  1729. 

"  Present. 
"The  Queen's  Most  Excellent  Majesty, 

"  His  Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Lord  Chancellor,  Lord 
Privy  Seal,  Lord  Steward,  Lord  Chamberlain,  Duke 
of  Somerset,  Duke  of  Bolton,  Duke  of  Rutland, 
Duke  of  Argyll,  Duke  of  Montrose,  Duke  of  Kent, 
Duke  of  Ancaster,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  Earl  of 
Westmoreland,  Earl  of  Burlington,  Earl  of  Scar- 
borough, Earl  of  Coventry,  Earl  of  Grantham,  Earl 
of  Godolphin,  Earl  of  Loudoun,  Earl  of  Findlater, 
Earl  of  Marchmont,  Earl  of  Hay,  Earl  of  Uxbridge, 
Earl  of  Sussex,  Viscount  Lonsdale,  Viscount  Cob- 
ham,  Viscount  Falmouth,  Lord  Wilmington,  Mr. 
Speaker,  Mr.  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  Master 

VOL.   II.  8 


of  the  Rolls,  Sir  Paul  Methuen,  and  Henry  Pelham, 

"  The  King's  Commission  appointing  Her  Most 
Excellent  Majesty  the  Queen  Regent  over  this 
Kingdom,  by  the  Style  and  Title  of  Guardian  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain,  and  His  Majesty's 
Lieutenant  within  the  same  during  His  Majesty's 
.absence,  was  this  day  by  Her  Majesty's  command, 
opened  and  read  in  His  Majesty's  Most  Honourable 
Privy  Council,  after  which  His  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  all  the  Lords  and  others  of  the 
Council  who  were  present,  had  the  honour  to  kiss 
Her  Majesty's  hand." 

Caroline  entered  with  manifest  enjoyment  upon 
the  duties  of  her  office,  and  discharged  them  with 
great  ability ;  she  had  so  long  known  the  essence  of 
power  that  it  was  easy  for  her  to  adapt  herself  to 
its  outward  manifestation.  Townshend,  who  was 
jealous  of  Walpole's  favour  with  the  Queen,  en- 
deavoured to  induce  the  King  to  modify  her  powers 
as  Regent,  and  urged  him  to  send  a  despatch  to 
that  effect  from  the  Hague,  but  the  King,  though 
he  listened,  declined  to  do  so ;  in  fact,  he  knew 
better  than  any  one  else  that  his  interests  were 
safe  in  his  consort's  hands. 

The  Queen-Regent  had  the  power  of  opening  and 
proroguing  Parliament,  signifying  the  royal  assent  to 
acts  and  measures,  appointing  bishops,  and  of  making 
other  important  appointments  ;  she  also  received  the 
foreign  ambassadors  and  envoys  as  though  she  were 
the  King,  and  corresponded  with  foreign  sovereigns. 









X  S 


\  1 

*»\   * 













Queen  Caroline  was  especially  careful  to  cultivate 
and  strengthen  the  good  understanding  between 
England  and  France,  and  she  wrote  several  letters 
to  the  King  of  France,  and  sent  him  a  present  of 
a  dozen  hogsheads  of  perry  and  cider.1 

The  most  important  negotiation  in  foreign  affairs 
was  the  Treaty  of  Seville,  which  was  practically 
concluded  during  Caroline's  regency,  though  it  was 
not  signed  until  a  little  later  (November  Qth, 
1729).  This  treaty  terminated  the  long  dispute 
between  England  and  Spain.  By  its  provisions, 
English  trade  to  America,  which  had  been  in- 
terrupted, was  restored.  England  was  given  back 
all  that  Spain  had  captured  during  the  war,  and 
the  Asiento  Treaty  (or  contract  for  supplying 
negroes,  of  establishing  certain  factories,  and  of 
sending  one  ship  to  the  South  Sea)  was  confirmed 
to  the  South  Sea  Company.  But  the  most  important 
feature  of  the  treaty  was  that  Gibraltar  was  tacitly 
relinquished  by  Spain.  It  would  be  too  much  to 
claim  for  Caroline  the  credit  of  the  cession  of  Gib- 
raltar to  England,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  her 
wise  and  temperate  counsels,  and  her  anxiety  not 
to  give  needless  offence  to  Spanish  susceptibilities 
by  mentioning  the  fortress  by  name,  materially  aided 
William  Stanhope,  the  English  plenipotentiary  at 
Madrid,  in  conducting  the  difficult  and  delicate 
negotiations  which  resulted  in  the  Treaty  of  Seville. 
Gibraltar  was  a  question  which  touched  Spanish 
pride  very  nearly,  and  to  see  a  fortress  on  its  own 

1  Daily  Post,  5th  July,  1729. 


shores  held  and  garrisoned  by  England  was  as  great 
a  humiliation  to  Spain  as  England's  possession  of 
Calais  had  once  been  to  France. 

Time  had  been,  and  not  so  long  before,  when 
English  Ministers  advised  the  recession  of  Gibraltar 
to  Spain,  and  George  the  First  had  written  a  letter 
which  contained  a  promise  to  restore  the  fortress  at 
some  future  time.  This  letter  had  been  written 
upon  the  advice  of  Townshend  and  Carteret  in  1721, 
and  so  lately  as  1728  we  find  that  Townshend  was 
still  in  favour  of  the  cession  of  Gibraltar.  Writing  to 
Poyntz  he  declared :  "What  you  proposed  in  relation 
to  Gibraltar  is  certainly  very  reasonable,  and  is  exactly 
conformable  to  the  opinion  which  you  know  I  have 
always  entertained  concerning  that  place  ;  but  you 
cannot  but  be  sensible  of  the  violent  and  almost 
superstitious  zeal  which  has  of  late  prevailed  among 
all  parties  of  this  kingdom  against  any  scheme  for  the 
restitution  of  Gibraltar  upon  any  conditions  what- 
soever." 1  If  the  matter  had  rested  with  Townshend, 
who  had  obtained  the  ear  of  the  King  during  his 
absence  at  Hanover,  Gibraltar  would  probably  have 
been  ceded  to  Spain. 

To  Caroline,  therefore,  acting  in  conjunction  with 
Walpole,  the  credit  is  due  of  having  retained  it  for 
England.  True,  Gibraltar  was  not  mentioned  by 
name  in  the  Treaty  of  Seville,  though  the  Opposition 
clamoured  for  its  explicit  mention.  But  the  Queen 
and  the  Prime  Minister  were  firm  ;  they  were  con- 
tent with  the  kernel  and  troubled  not  about  the 

1  Lord  Townshend  to  Poyntz,  I4th  June,  1728. 


husk.  The  result  justified  their  wisdom.  The 
treaty  was  ultimately  ratified  without  conditions,  and 
Gibraltar  henceforth  became  a  recognised  possession 
of  England. 

In  this,  as  in  all  other  matters,  the  Queen  worked 
in  close  accord  with  Walpole,  and  by  way  of  showing 
the  Opposition  how  little  she  heeded  their  attacks, 
she  publicly  marked  her  favour  of  the  Prime  Minister 
by  going  to  dine  with  him,  accompanied  by  the 
Prince  of  Wales  and  all  the  Royal  Family,  at  his 
house  at  Chelsea,  where  a  magnificent  entertainment 
was  provided  for  her  Majesty.  The  Queen  and 
the  Royal  Family  dined  in  one  room,  and  the  rest 
of  the  party  in  another,  Walpole  himself  waiting  on 
his  illustrious  guest.  Nor  did  the  Queen  neglect 
the  ceremonial  side  of  her  office ;  she  kept  great 
state  whilst  she  was  at  St.  James's,  and  on  the 
anniversary  (June  iith)  of  the  King's  Accession 
she  held  a  court  at  St.  James's  which  was  one  of 
the  most  largely  attended  of  the  reign.  She  also 
frequently  honoured  the  nobility  with  her  presence 
at  their  entertainments. 

At  Windsor  Caroline  kept  much  company,  avail- 
ing herself  of  the  King's  absence  to  go  there.  At 
Windsor  she  felt  Queen  of  England  indeed ;  she 
occupied  the  rooms  which  had  been  used  by  the 
late  Queen  Anne,  and  her  favourite  sitting  room 
was  the  closet  wherein  Anne  first  heard  of  the 
great  victory  of  Blenheim,  in  which  hung  the 
banner  annually  presented  by  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,  and  now  by  his  daughter,  who  was  duchess 


in  her  own  right.  Caroline  held  drawing-rooms  in 
the  state  apartments,  of  which  the  finest  were  the 
magnificent  St.  George's  Hall  and  the  ball  room, 
hung  with  tapestry  representing  the  seasons  of  the 
year.  The  celebrated  collection  of  beauties  by 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  afterwards  removed  to  Hampton 
Court,  adorned  one  of  the  state  apartments,  and 
the  private  chapel  had  some  exquisite  carved  work 
by  Grinling  Gibbons.  Here  Caroline  attended 
divine  service,  and,  seated  in  the  royal  closet  hung 
with  crimson  velvet,  listened  to  lengthy  discourses 
from  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke,  or  some  other  favourite 

It  was  from  Windsor  on  a  notable  occasion  that 
she  drove  to  honour  the  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Orkney  with  a  visit  to  their  beautiful  seat  at 
Clieveden.  "  Yesterday,"  writes  Peter  Wentworth, 
"  the  Queen  and  all  the  Royal  Family  went  to 
dine  and  supper  at  Clieveden.  How  they  were 
diverted  I  know  not,  but  I  believe  very  well,  for 
they  did  not  come  home  until  almost  four  in  the 
morning."  l  According  to  all  accounts  the  entertain- 
ment was  very  successful,  but  Lady  Orkney's 
anxieties  as  a  hostess  seem  to  have  weighed  heavily 
upon  her,  for  we  find  her  writing  a  long  letter  a  few 
days  later  to  Mrs.  Howard,  expressing  her  "anguish  " 
because  some  little  things  had  gone  wrong.  Per- 
haps, Lady  Orkney  only  wanted  a  more  particular 
expression  of  the  Queen's  satisfaction.  Her  letter 
may  be  quoted  as  an  expression  of  the  fulsome 

1  Letter  of  Peter  Wentworth  to  Lord  Strafford,  3ist  July,  1729. 


servility   to   royal  personages  then  in   vogue    even 
among  the  high  nobility. 

"CLIEVEDEN,  August  ^th,  1739. 

"  MADAM, 

"  I  give  you  this  trouble  out  of  the  anguish 
of  my  mind,  to  have  the  Queen  doing  us  the  honour 
to  dine  here,  and  nothing  performed  in  the  order  it 
ought  to  have  been  !  The  stools  which  were  set 
for  the  Royal  Family,  though  distinguished  from 
ours,  which  I  thought  right,  because  the  Princess 
Royal  sits  so  at  quadrille,  put  away  by  Lord 
Grantham,1  who  said  there  was  to  be  no  distinction 
from  princes  and  princesses  and  the  ladies.  He 
directed  the  tablecloths  so  that  there  must  be  two  to 
cover  the  table  ;  for  he  used  to  have  it  so ;  in  short, 
turned  the  servants'  heads.  They  kept  back  the 
dinner  too  long  for  her  Majesty  after  i  was  dished, 
and  was  set  before  the  fire,  and  made  it  look  not 
well  dressed,  the  Duke  of  Grafton  saying  they 
wanted  a  mattre  cf  hotel.  All  this  vexed  my  Lord 
Orkney  so — he  tells  me  he  hopes  I  will  never 
meddle  more,  if  he  could  ever  hope  for  the  same 
honour ;  which  I  own  I  did  too  much,  as  I  see  by 
the  success,  but  having  done  it  for  the  late  King,2 
and  was  told  that  things  were  in  that  order,  that  it 
was  as  if  his  Majesty  had  lived  here,  I  ventured  it 
now,  but  1  have  promised  not  to  aim  at  it  more. 

1  Chamberlain  to  the  Queen. 

2  On  the  5th  September,  1724,  King  George  I.,  attended  by  many 
of  the  nobility  and  gentry,  dined  with   Lord  Orkney  at  Clieveden, 
where  he  was  magnificently  entertained. 


"  But  what  I  have  said  shows  the  greater  good- 
ness in  the  Queen  to  be  so  very  easy.  I  have  seen 
condescension  in  princesses,  but  none  that  ever 
came  up  to  her  Majesty  :  nay,  not  all  the  good 
you. have  ever  said  could  make  me  imagine  what  I 
saw  and  heard.  We  all  agreed  her  Majesty  must  be 
admired  ;  and,  if  I  may  use  the  term,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  see  her  and  not  love  her. 

"If  you  hear  of  these  mismanagements,  pray  be 
so  good  as  to  say  the  house  was  too  little  for  the 
reception  of  the  Queen,  and  so  many  great  princes 
and  princesses,  who,  without  flattery,  cannot  be  but 
respectedly  admired.  I  thought  I  had  turned  my 
mind  in  a  philosophical  way  of  having  done  with 
the  world,  but  I  find  I  have  deceived  myself ;  for 
I  am  vexed  and  pleased  with  the  honours  I  have 
received.  I  know  from  your  discretion  you  will 
burn  this,  and  I  hope  will  always  believe  me,  etc., 

"E.   ORKNEY."1 

From  Windsor  the  Queen  returned  to  Ken- 
sington, which  she  made  her  headquarters  for  the 
rest  of  the  summer,  paying  visits  occasionally  to 
Hampton  Court,  Richmond,  and  Windsor,  for  the 
purpose  of  hunting.  The  best  idea  of  the  social 
side  of  her  regency  may  be  gathered  from  the 
letters  that  Peter  Wentworth  wrote  during  this 
period  to  Lord  Strafford. 2  They  throw  curious 

1  Suffolk  Correspondence. 

2  These  letters  are  preserved  in  the  Manuscript  Department  of 
the  British  Museum.     Some  of  them  have  been  published  in  the  Went- 
worth Papers,  but  many  of  those  quoted  here  have  never  been  printed. 


sidelights  on  the  manners  of  the  time.     To  quote 
seriatim  :— 

"  KENSINGTON,  July  25^,  1729. 

"  I  have  been  at  Richmond  again  with  the  Queen 
and  the  Royal  Family,  and  I  thank  God  they  are 
all  very  well.  We  are  to  go  there  to-day,  and  the 
Queen  walks  about  there  all  day  long.  I  shall  be 
no  more  her  jest  as  a  lover  of  drink  at  free  cost, 
not  only  from  her  own  observation  of  one  whom  she 
sees  every  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  and  in  the  even- 
ing again  at  seven,  walking  in  the  gardens,  and  in 
the  drawing-room  till  after  ten,  but  because  she  has 
my  Lord  Lifford  to  play  upon,  who  this  day 
sen'night  got  drunk  at  Richmond.  His  manner  of 
getting  so  was  pleasant  enough ;  he  dined  with  my 
good  Lord  Grantham,  who  is  well  served  at  his 
table  with  meat,  but  very  stingy  and  sparing  in  his 
drink,  for  as  soon  as  his  dinner  is  done  he  and  his 
company  rise,  and  no  round  of  toasts.  So  my  lord 
made  good  use  of  his  time  whilst  at  dinner,  and 
before  they  rose  the  Prince  [of  Wales]  came  to  them 
and  drank  a  bonpere  to  my  Lord  Lifford,  which  he 
pledged,  and  began  another  to  him,  and  so  a  third. 
The  Duke  of  Grafton,  to  show  the  Prince  he  had 
done  his  business,  gave  him  (Lord  Lifford)  a  little 
shove,  and  threw  him  off  his  chair  upon  the  ground, 
and  then  took  him  up  and  carried  him  to  the  Queen. 
Sunday  morning  she  railed  at  him  before  all  the  Court 
upon  getting  drunk  in  her  company,  and  upon  his 
gallantry  and  coquetry  with  Princess  Amelia,  run- 


ning  up  and  down  the  steps  with  her.  When  some- 
body told  him  the  Queen  was  there  and  saw  him, 
his  answer  was  :  '  What  do  I  care  for  the  Queen  ? ' 
He  stood  all  her  jokes  not  only  with  French  impu- 
dence, but  with  Irish  assurance.  For  all  you  say  I 
don't  wonder  I  blushed  for  him  and  wished  for  half 
his  stock.  I  wonder  at  her  making  it  so  public. 
Nobody  has  made  a  song ;  if  Mr.  Hambleton  will 
make  one  that  shall  praise  the  Queen  and  the  Royal 
Family's  good  humour,  and  expose  as  much  as  he 
pleases  the  folly  of  Lord  Grantham  and  Lord  Lifford, 
I  will  show  it  to  the  Prince,  and  I  know  he  won't  tell 
whom  he  had  it  from,  for  I  have  lately  obliged  him 
with  the  sight  of  Mrs.  Fitzwillianis  litany,  and  he 
has  promised  he  will  not  say  he  had  it  from  me.  So 
I  must  beg  you  to  say  nothing  of  this  to  Lady 
Strafford,  for  she  will  write  it  for  news  to  Lady 
Charlotte  Roussie,  and  then  I  shall  have  Mrs.  Fitz. 
angry  with  me,  and  the  Prince  laughing  at  me  for 
not  being  able  to  be  my  own  councillor,  as  I  fear 
you  laugh  now.  But  if  you  betray  me  I  make  a 
solemn  vow  I  never  will  tell  you  anything  again. 

"  The  Queen  continues  very  kind  and  obliging 
in  her  sayings  to  me,  and  gave  me  t'other  day  an 
opportunity  to  tell  her  of  my  circumstances.  As  we 
were  driving  by  Chelsea  she  asked  me  what  that 
walled  place  was  called.  I  told  her  Chelsea  Park, 
and  in  the  time  of  the  Bubbles  'twas  designed  for 
the  silkworms.1  She  asked  me  if  I  was  not  in  the 
Bubbles.  With  a  sigh,  I  answered  :  '  Yes,  that,  and 

1  One  of  the  Bubble  schemes. 


my  fire  had  made  me  worse  than  nothing'.  Some 
time  after,  when  I  did  not  think  she  saw  me,  I  was 
biting  my  nails.  She  called  to  me  and  said  :  '  Oh  fie ! 
Mr.  Wentworth,  you  bite  your  nails  very  prettily '. 
I  begged  her  pardon  for  doing  so  in  her  presence,  but 
said  I  did  it  for  vexation  of  my  circumstances,  and 
to  save  a  crown  from  Dr.  Lamb  for  cutting  them. 
She  said  she  was  sorry  I  had  anything  to  vex  me, 
and  I  did  well  to  save  my  money.  The  Prince  told 
her  I  was  one  of  the  most  diligent  servants  he  ever 
saw.  I  bowed  and  smiled  as  if  I  thought  he  ban- 
tered me.  He  understood  me,  and  therefore  re- 
peated again  that  he  meant  it  seriously  and  upon 
his  word  he  thought  that  the  Queen  was  happy  in 
having  so  good  a  servant.  I  told  him  'twas  a  great 
satisfaction  to  me  to  meet  with  his  Royal  Highness's 
approbation.  He  clapped  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder 
and  assured  me  that  I  had  it. 

"  As  we  went  to  Richmond  last  Wednesday  our 
grooms  had  a  battle  with  a  carter  that  would  not  go 
out  of  the  way.  The  good  Queen  had  compassion 
for  the  rascal  and  ordered  me  to  ride  after  him  and 
give  him  a  crown.  I  desired  her  Majesty  to  recall 
that  order,  for  the  fellow  was  a  very  saucy  fellow, 
and  I  saw  him  strike  the  Prince's  groom  first,  and  if 
we  gave  him  anything  for  his  beating  'twould  be  an 
example  to  others  to  stop  the  way  a  purpose  to 
provoke  a  beating.  The  Prince  approved  what  I 
said,  for  he  said  much  the  same  to  her  in  Dutch,  and 
I  got  immortal  fame  among  the  liverymen,  who  are 
no  small  fools  at  this  Court.  I  told  her  if  she  would 


give  the  crown  to  anybody  it  should  be  to  the 
Prince's  groom,  who  had  the  carter's  long  whip 
over  his  shoulders.  She  laughed,  but  saved  her 

"  KENSINGTON,  August  i^/t,  1729. 

"  The  Queen  has  done  me  the  honour  to  refer 
me  for  my  orders  to  her  Royal  Highness  Princess 
Anne,  and  what  is  agreed  by  her  will  please  her 
Majesty  ;  the  height  of  my  ambition  is  to  please 
them  all.  I  flatter  myself  I  have  done  so  hitherto, 
for  Princess  Anne  has  distinguished  me  with  a 
singular  mark  of  her  favour,  for  she  has  made  me  a 
present  of  a  hunting  suit  of  clothes,  which  is  blue, 
trimmed  with  gold,  and  faced  and  lined  with  red. 
The  Prince  of  Wales,  Princess  Anne,  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland,  Princess  Mary  and  Princess  Louisa 
wear  the  same,  and  looked  charming  pretty  in 
them.  Thursday  se'nnight,  Windsor  Forest  will 
be  blessed  with  their  presence  again,  and  since  the 
forest  was  a  forest  it  never  had  such  a  fine  set  of 
hunters,  for  a  world  of  gentlemen  have  had  the 
ambition  to  follow  his  Royal  Highness's  fashion. 

"  On  Saturday  last  at  Richmond  Park,  Major 
Sylvine  made  his  appearance  by  the  Queen's  chaise, 
and  she  did  him  the  honour  to  take  notice  of  him, 
telling  him  she  was  glad  to  see  he  could  hunt.  He 
thought  to  be  witty  upon  me  by  telling  her  Majesty 
I  took  such  delight  in  waiting  that  he  thought  it  a 
pity  to  deprive  me  of  that  pleasure.  My  good  and 
gracious  Queen  answered  him  to  my  satisfaction 


and  to  his  mortification,  for  she  said :  '  Does  he  ?  So 
'tis  a  sign  he  loves  me,  and  I  love  him  the  better 
for't.'  He  replied  he  hoped  her  Majesty  did  not 
think  the  worse  of  him.  She  had  the  goodness  to 
say  '  No,'  but  repeated  again  that  she  loved  me 
the  better.  Princess  Amelia,  who  was  in  the  chaise 
with  her,  turned  her  head  from  Sylvine  and  smiled 
most  graciously  upon  me,  which  I  could  answer  in 
no  other  way  than  by  low  bows  to  mark  the  sense  of 
the  great  honour  that  was  done  me.  And  for  my 
life  I  could  not  forbear  getting  behind  the  chaise 
to  triumph  over  and  insult  the  major,  telling  him 
he  had  got  much  by  being  witty  upon  me,  which 
Princess  Amelia  heard,  and  laughed  again  upon 

"  KENSINGTON,  Atigust  2ist,  1729. 

"  Yesterday  the  Queen  and  all  the  Royal  Family 
dined  at  Claremont,1  and  I  dined  with  the  Duke  (of 
Newcastle)  and  Sir  Robert  (Walpole),  etc.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  came  to  us  as  soon  as  his,  and 
our,  dinner  was  over,  and  drank  a  bumper  of  rack- 
punch  to  the  Queen's  health,  which  you  may  be 
sure  I  devotedly  pledged,  and  he  was  going  on  with 
another,  but  her  Majesty  sent  us  word  that  she  was 
going  to  walk  in  the  garden,  so  that  broke  up  the 
company.  We  walked  till  candle-light,  being  enter- 
tained with  very  fine  French  horns,  then  returned 
to  the  great  hall,  and  everybody  agreed  never  was 
anything  finer  lit. 

Claremont  was  one  of  the  seats  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle. 


"Her  Majesty  and  Princess  Caroline,  Lady 
Charlotte  Roussie  and  Mr.  Schiitz  played  their 
quadrille.  In  the  next  room  the  Prince  had  the 
fiddles  and  danced,  and  he  did  me  the  honour 
to  ask  me  if  I  could  dance  a  country-dance.  I 
told  him  '  yes  '  ;  and  if  there  had  been  a  partner 
for  me.  I  should  have  made  one  in  that  glorious 
company  —  the  Prince  with  the  Duchess  of  New- 
castle, the  Duke  of  Newcastle  with  Princess  Anne, 
the  Duke  of  Grafton  with  Princess  Amelia,  Sir 
Robert  Walpole  with  Lady  Catherine  Pelham, 
who  is  with  child  —  so  they  danced  but  two  dances. 
The  Queen  came  from  her  cards  to  see  that  sight, 
and  before  she  said  it,  I  thought  he  (Sir  Robert 
Walpole)  moved  surprisingly  genteelly,  and  his 
dancing  really  became  him,  which  I  should  not  have 
believed  if  I  had  not  seen,  and,  if  you  please,  you 
may  suspend  your  belief  until  you  see  the  same. 
Lord  Lifford  danced  with  Lady  Fanny  Manners  ; 
when  they  came  to  an  easy  dance  my  dear  duke 
took  her  from  my  lord,  and  I  must  confess  it  became 
him  better  than  the  man  I  wish  to  be  my  friend, 
Sir  Robert,  which  you  will  easily  believe.  Mr. 
Henry  Pelham1  danced  with  Lady  Albemarle,  Lord 
James  Cavendish  with  Lady  Middleton,  and  Mr. 
Lumley  with  Betty  Spence. 

"  I  paid  my  court  sometimes  to  the  carders,  and 
sometimes  to  the  dancers.  The  Queen  told  Lord 

Right  Hon.  Henry  Pelham,  son  of  Lord  Pelham  and 
brother  of  Thomas  Pelham,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  whose  title  had 
been  revived  in  his  favour  by  George  the  First. 


Lifford  that  he  had  not  drunk  enough  to  make 
him  gay,  '  and  there  is  honest  Mr.  Wentworth  has 
not  drunk  enough '.  I  told  her  I  had  drunk  her 
Majesty's  health  ;  '  And  my  children's  too,  I  hope  ? 
I  answered  '  Yes '.  But  she  told  me  there  was 
one  health  I  had  forgot,  which  was  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Newcastle's,  who  had  entertained  us  so 
well.  I  told  her  I  had  been  down  among  the  coach- 
men to  see  they  had  obeyed  my  orders  to  keep 
themselves  sober,  and  I  had  had  them  all  by  the 
hand,  and  could  witness  for  them  that  they  were 
so,  and  it  would  not  have  been  decent  for  me  to 
examine  them  about  it  without  I  had  kept  myself 
sober,  but  now  that  grand  duty  was  over,  I  was  at 
leisure  to  obey  her  Majesty's  commands.  There 
stood  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room  a  table  with 
bottles  of  wine  for  the  dancers  to  drink,  and  I  went 
and  filled  a  bumper  of  burgundy  and  drank  the 
duke's  and  duchess's  health  to  Mr.  Lumley,  and 
told  him  I  did  it  by  her  Majesty's  command,  and 
then  I  went  to  the  dancers,  and  he  to  the  Queen, 
and  told  her  I  had  done  so.  When  I  came  to  her 
again  she  told  me  she  was  glad  I  had  obeyed  her 
commands,  and  I  thanked  Mr.  Lumley  for  the 
justice  he  had  done  me  in  telling  it  to  the  Queen, 
which  drew  this  compliment  from  him,  that  he 
should  always  be  ready  to  do  me  justice,  or  any 
service  in  his  power.  I  beg  my  son  may  have  no 
occasion  to  grieve  that  I  have  now  and  again  taken 
a  glass  too  much,  for  in  my  cups  I  shall  call  upon 
Mr.  Lumley  to  remember  me,  and  'tis  through  these 


merry  companions,  or  through  rich  friends  that 
services  are  done  for  people. 

"  The  Queen  and  the  Prince  have  invited  them- 
selves to  the  Duke  of  Grafton's  hunting  seat,  which 
lies  near  Richmond,  Saturday.  He  fended  off  for 
a  great  while,  saying  his  house  was  not  fit  to  receive 
them,  and  'twas  so  old  he  was  afraid  'twould 
fall  upon  their  heads.  But  his  Royal  Highness, 
who  is  very  quick  at  good  inventions,  told  him 
he  would  bring  tents  and  pitch  them  in  his  garden, 
so  his  Grace's  excuse  did  not  come  off ;  the  thing 
must  be  Saturday. 

"  I  have  sent  you  enclosed  a  copy  of  my  letter 
I  wrote  to  Lord  Pomfret,  which  will  explain  to  you 
how  I  am  made  secretary  to  the  Queen,1  and  before 
dinner,  under  pretence  to  know  if  I  had  taken  her 
Majesty's  sense  aright,  her  Royal  Highness  (the 
Princess  Royal)  being  by  when  I  received  the 
orders,  I  desired  leave  to  show  it  her.  She  smiled 
and  said  :  '  By  all  means  let  me  see  it '.  She  kept 
it  till  she  had  dined,  read  it  to  the  Queen,  her 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  then  sent  for  me  from  the 
gentlemen  ushers'  table,  and  gave  it  to  me,  again 
thanked  me,  and  said  it  was  very  well  writ,  and 
she  saw  too  that  I  could  dine  at  that  table  without 
being  drunk  at  free  cost." 

"  KENSINGTON,  September  2nd,  1729. 

"Yesterday  when  the  Queen  was  just  got  into 
her  chaise  there  came  a  messenger  who  brought 

1  This  was  probably  a  practical  joke  played  on  Peter  Wentworth, 
as  he  never  held  the  office  of  secretary  to  the  Queen. 


her  a  packet  of  letters  from  the  King  with  the  good 
news  that  his  Majesty  was  very  well.  He  had 
left  him  at  the  play  this  day  se'nnight.  It  also  said 
the  guards  of  Hanover  were  not  to  march,  for  all 
differences  were  accommodated  between  the  King 
and  the  King  of  Prussia,  so  that  I  hope  now  the 
match  will  go  forward  l  and  that  we  shall  soon  have 
the  King  here.  The  Queen  opened  the  letter  and 
read  it  as  she  went  along  ;  the  Princess  [Anne]  and 
the  Duke  [of  Cumberland]  were  riding  on  before,  and 
neither  saw  nor  heard  anything  of  this.  Therefore  I 
scoured  away  from  the  Queen  to  tell  them  the  good 
news,  and  then  I  rode  back  and  told  the  Queen  what 
I  had  done,  and  that  I  had  pleasure  to  be  the 
messenger  of  good  news.  She  and  they  thanked 
me  .and  commended  what  I  had  done.  I  have  sent 
you  a  copy  of  the  orders  I  have  been  given  to-day 
that  you  may  see  we  go  in  for  a  continual  round  of 

"KENSINGTON,  September  i6th,  1729. 

"There  was  one  Mr.  W(entworth)  who  had 
a  very  agreeable  present  from  the  Queen.  As  he 
went  over  with  her  in  the  ferry  boat  Saturday  s'en- 
night  she  gave  a  purse  to  Princess  Anne,  and  bade 
her  give  it  to  Mr.  W(entworth).  Then  she  told 
him  she  wished  him  good  luck,  and  in  order  that 
she  might  bring  it  to  him,  she  had  given  him  silver 
and  gold,  a  sixpence,  a  shilling,  and  a  half-guinea. 

JThe  double  marriage  scheme  which  had  cropped  up  again  for 
a  brief  space. 

VOL.    II.  9 


He  took  the  purse,  and  gave  her  Majesty  a  great 
many  thanks.  '  What,'  said  she,  '  will  you  not  look 
into't  ? '  His  answer  was  :  '  Whatever  comes  from 
your  Majesty  is  agreeable  to  him  ; '  though  if  he 
had  not  felt  in  the  purse  some  paper,  he  could  not 
have  taken  the  royal  jest  with  so  good  a  grace. 
There  was  a  bank  bill  in't,  which  raised  such  a 
contention  between  him  and  his  wife  that  in  a 
manner  he  had  better  never  have  had  it.  He  was 
willing  to  give  her  half,  but  the  good  wife  called  in 
worthy  Madam  Percade  to  her  assistance,  and  she 
determined  to  give  a  third  to  her. 

"  All  this  was  told  the  Queen  the  next  day,  and 
caused  a  great  laugh,  but  put  poor  Mr.  W(entworth) 
upon  the  thought  of  soliciting  the  great  Lord  L(ifTord) 
for  a  sum  of  ^15  he  had  forgotten  to  pay  him  in 
the  South  Sea.  When  the  chase  was  over  the 
Prince  clapped  Mr.  W(entworth)  on  the  back  and 
wished  him  joy  of  his  present,  and  told  him  now  he 
would  never  be  without  money  in  his  pocket.  He 
replied  if  his  Highness  had  not  told  him  so  publicly 
of  it,  it  might  have  been  so,  but  now  his  creditors 
would  tease  every  farthing  from  him." 

The  King  who  had  been  at  Hanover  five  months 
now  made  ready  to  return  to  England.1  He  had 

1  Thackeray  inaccurately  says  that  "in  the  year  1729  he  (King 
George  II.)  went  over  two  whole  years,  during  which  time  Caroline 
reigned  for  him  in  England,  and  he  was  not  in  the  least  missed  by 
his  British  subjects".  The  King  was  only  away  from  March  to 
September,  1729,  and  then  returned  to  England,  where  he  remained 
until  1732,  when  he  again  went  to  Hanover. 

»--••     ,  — TWk  5>i  --        '  :  |""--.»a— TIP;**"-      * 

,  Cs    £    ^  |S~  fee 


greatly  enjoyed  his  visit  to  the  Electorate,  and  had 
given  several  fetes,  including  a  farewell  masquerade 
in  the  gardens  of  Herrenhausen,  where  the  hedges 
of  clipped  hornbeam  acted  as  screens  and  the  grass 
as  a  carpet ;  the  whole  scene  was  illuminated  by 
coloured  lights.1  The  King  followed  at  Hanover 
the  same  clockwork  rule  he  had  established  in  Eng- 
land. "Our  life  is  as  uniform  as  that  of  a  monastery," 
wrote  one  of  the  King's  English  retinue  who  was 
lodged  at  the  Leine  Schloss.  "  Every  morning  at 
eleven  and  every  evening  at  six  we  drive  in  the  heat 
to  Herrenhausen  through  an  enormous  linden  avenue ; 
and  twice  a  day  cover  our  coats  and  coaches  with 
dust.  In  the  King's  society  there  is  never  the  least 
change.  At  table,  and  at  cards,  he  sees  always  the 
same  faces,  and  at  the  end  of  the  game  retires  into 
his  chamber.  Twice  a  week  there  is  a  French 
theatre ;  the  other  days  there  is  a  play  in  the 
gallery.  In  this  way,  were  the  King  always  to  stop 
in  Hanover,  one  could  take  a  ten  years'  calendar 
of  his  proceedings,  and  settle  beforehand  what  his 
time  of  business,  meals,  and  pleasure  would  be." 

It  was  during  this  visit  of  George  the  Second  to 
Hanover  that  his  dispute  with  the  King  of  Prussia 
came  to  a  crisis.  The  King  of  England  resented 
the  King  of  Prussia's  connivance  at  his  son 
Frederick's  disobedience,  but  he  could  hardly  make 
that  the  ostensible  pretext  for  a  quarrel,  so  he 
raked  up  the  old  grievance  of  the  Prussians  hav- 
ing kidnapped  some  of  his  tall  Hanoverians  for 

1  Vide  Vehse,  Gcschichte  der  Deutschen  Hofe. 


the  Potsdam  regiment  of  guards,  and  so  violent 
grew  the  altercation,  and  so  insulting  were  the 
messages  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  that  the  choleric 
little  George  sent  him  word  challenging  him  to 
single  combat  at  any  place  he  would  name,  and 
leaving  him  the  choice  of  weapons.  It  would  have 
been  a  boon  to  Europe  in  general,  and  to  England 
and  Prussia  in  particular,  if  these  two  royal  com- 
batants had  met  and  killed  one  another  as  they 
threatened  to  do,  but  unfortunately  such  a  desirable 
consummation  was  prevented  by  Lord  Townshend, 
whose  remonstrances  resulted  in  a  compromise 
being  patched  up  between  the  illustrious  cousins. 
In  fact,  so  amicably  were  matters  settled  that  pre- 
tended negotiations  were  again  set  on  foot  for  the 
marriage  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  with  Wilhelmina. 
The  Prince  professed  himself  most  eager  for  the 
match,  and  wrote  to  Hotham,  the  special  envoy 
at  Berlin  :  "Please,  dear  Hotham,  get  my  marriage 
settled,  my  impatience  increases  daily,  for  I  am 
quite  foolishly  in  love ".  Wilhelmina,  however, 
says  that  she  did  not  credit  these  romantic  senti- 
ments, and  she  thought  they  were  due  rather 
to  obstinacy  than  love.  Her  father  was  quite 
indifferent  as  to  whether  the  Prince  of  Wales's 
desire  to  wed  his  daughter  proceeded  from  love 
or  obstinacy;  all  he  wished  was  that  Wilhelmina 
should  be  taken  off  his  hands,  and  given  a  suitable 
establishment.  King  George  had  the  same  feeling 
about  Amelia,  whom  he  still  desired  to  marry  to  the 
Crown  Prince.  The  King  of  Prussia's  answer  to 


this  was  :  "  I  will  agree  to  my  son's  marriage  if  he 
is  made  Regent  of  Hanover,  and  allowed  to  direct 
the  management  of  the  electorate  till  my  death,  and 
if  provision  is  made  for  his  maintenance".  These 
terms  were,  of  course,  impossible,  and  the  matter 
came  to  an  end. 

The  King  quitted  Hanover  with  regret,  and 
commanded  that  everything  should  remain  at 
Herrenhausen  precisely  the  same  as  when  he  was 
there.  The  pomp  and  circumstance  of  the  electoral 
court  suffered  no  abatement  in  his  absence ;  the 
splendid  stables  containing  eight  hundred  horses 
were  maintained  at  their  full  strength,  and  the 
chamberlains,  court  marshals,  and  others  continued 
to  receive  their  full  salaries.  The  King  appointed 
no  regent  over  the  electorate  in  his  absence ;  his 
uncle,  the  Duke  of  York  was  dead,  and  his  son, 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  was  now  in  England,  so  he 
placed  the  government  of  the  electorate  in  the  hands 
of  a  council  of  regency,  and  as  a  substitute  for  his 
own  most  gracious  presence  at  the  levees  the  King's 
portrait  as  Elector  was  placed  upon  the  vacant 
throne  in  the  state  room  at  Herrenhausen.  Every 
Saturday  a  levee  was  held  as  though  the  Elector 
(for  they  did  not  officially  recognise  the  King  of 
England  at  Hanover)  had  been  there,  and  the 
courtiers  assembled  and  made  their  bow  to  the 
picture  on  the  chair  of  state  just  as  though  it  had 
been  the  Elector  himself.  This  absurd  ceremony 
continued  through  George  the  Second's  reign,  except 
when  he  was  at  Hanover. 


The  King  landed  at  Margate  on  September 
nth,  and  at  once  posted  to  London,  where  his 
Queen  and  Regent  was  eagerly  expecting  him.  So 
anxious  was  she  that  when  the  outriders  came  on 
ahead  to  Kensington  Palace  to  announce  that  the 
King  was  nearing  London,  the  Queen  set  out  on  foot, 
accompanied  by  all  her  children,  and  walked  from 
Kensington,  through  Hyde  Park,  down  Piccadilly 
to  St.  James's  Park  where  she  met  the  King's 
coach.  The  King  stopped,  alighted,  and  heartily 
embraced  his  consort  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people. 
Then  he  helped  her  back  into  the  coach,  when 
they  drove  off  to  Kensington  together  amid  the 
cheers  of  the  populace,  followed  by  other  coaches 
containing  the  King's  suite  and  the  princes  and 
princesses.  The  devotion  which  the  Queen  showed 
to  the  King  and  the  evident  affection  he  bore  her 
are  the  best  features  (one  might  almost  say  the  only 
good  features),  of  the  Court  of  England  at  this  period. 
Peter  Wentworth,  who  writes  to  his  brother  of 
this  royal  meeting,  says:  "The  King  is  happily 
arrived.  .  .  .  You  see  I  am  got  into  the  prints  by 
the  honour  the  Queen  did  me,  alone  of  all  her  ser- 
vants, to  send  me  to  meet  the  King.  I  was  the  only 
gentleman  servant  with  her  when  she  walked,  Mon- 
day se'nnight,  with  all  her  roval  children,  from 
Kensington  Gardens  quite  to  the  island  of  St. 
James's  Park.  Passages  there  are  better  told  than 
writ,  which  I  design  myself  the  honour  to  do  very 
soon  —  though  I  find  virtue  retires  no  more  to 
cottages  and  cells,  but  secure  of  public  triumph 


and    applause,    she    makes   the    British    Court    her 
imperial  residence." 

The  next  day,  at  a  meeting  of  the  Privy  Council, 
the  Queen,  kneeling,  delivered  her  commission  of 
regency  back  into  the  King's  hands,  and  rendered 
him  an  account  of  her  stewardship. 




SOON  after  the  King's  return  from  Hanover,  matters 
came  to  a  crisis  between  Townshend  and  Walpole. 
Ill-feeling  had  existed  for  some  time,  and  the  Treaty 
of  Seville  served  to  irritate  it.  The  King,  who 
had  a  great  regard  for  a  minister  who  had  served 
him  long  and  faithfully,  was  reluctant  to  let  Town- 
shend go,  but  the  Queen,  who  saw  in  him  an  obstacle 
to  her  plans,  was  anxious  to  be  quit  of  him,  and 
when  once  she  made  up  her  mind,  it  was  not  long 
before  she  got  what  she  wanted.  She  suspected 
that  Townshend  was  in  league  with  Mrs.  Howard, 
and  she  could  not  forgive  his  having  endeavoured 
to  curtail  her  powers  as  Regent.  Moreover,  Town- 
shend, who  had  always  treated  her  with  scant 
respect,  had  so  far  forgotten  himself  as  to  make 
a  scene  in  her  presence. 

One  evening,  when  the  court  was  at  Windsor, 
the  Queen  asked  Townshend  where  he  had  dined 
that  day,  and  he  told  her  with  Lord  and  Lady 
Trevor.  Walpole,  who  was  standing  by,  said  with 
his  usual  coarse  pleasantry  :  "  My  Lord,  madam,  I 


think  is  grown  coquet  from  a  long  widowhood,  and  has 
some  design  upon  my  Lady  Trevor's  virtue,  for  his 
assiduity  of  late  in  that  family  is  grown  to  be  so 
much  more  than  common  civility,  that,  without  this 
solution,  I  know  not  how  to  account  for  it."  That 
Walpole  was  only  joking  was  evident  from  the  fact 
that  Lady  Trevor,  besides  being  a  most  virtuous 
matron,  was  very  old,  and  exceedingly  ugly.  But 
Townshend,  who  was  eager  to  take  offence,  flew 
into  a  passion,  and  replied  with  great  warmth  :  "No, 
sir,  I  am  not  one  of  those  fine  gentlemen  who  find 
no  time  of  life,  nor  any  station  in  the  world,  pre- 
servatives against  follies  and  immoralities  that  are 
hardly  excusable  when  youth  and  idleness  make  us 
most  liable  to  such  temptations.  They  are  liberties, 
sir,  which  I  can  assure  you  I  am  as  far  from  taking, 
as  from  approving ;  nor  have  I  either  a  constitution 
that  requires  such  practices,  a  purse  that  can  support 
them,  or  a  conscience  that  can  digest  them."  He 
went  white  to  the  lips  as  he  said  this,  his  voice 
shook,  and  he  trembled  with  rage,  and  was  ready 
to  spring  at  Walpole.  His  answer  was  intended  to 
be  offensive.  Walpole  led  a  notoriously  immoral 
life,  and  had  lately  made  himself  the  talk  of  the 
town  by  his  amour  with  Maria,  or  Moll,  Skerrett, 
and  the  caricatures  and  ballads  of  the  day  teemed 
with  the  coarsest  allusions  to  this  intrigue.  But 
Walpole  kept  his  temper,  and,  with  a  shrug  of  his 
shoulders,  answered  Townshend  quietly  :  "  What, 
my  Lord,  all  this  for  my  Lady  Trevor!"  Townshend 
would  have  retorted  with  heat,  but  the  Queen,  who 


was  exceedingly  uneasy  at  the  scene,  turned  the 
subject  with  a  laugh,  and  began  to  talk  very  fast 
about  something  else. 

A  variety  of  causes  conspired  to  aggravate 
Townshend's  jealousy  of  his  brother-in-law  and 
former  friend.  Walpole  put  the  case  bluntly  by  say- 
ing that  "  so  long  as  the  firm  was  Townshend  and 
Walpole  things  went  all  right,  but  the  moment  it 
became  Walpole  and  Townshend  things  went  all 
wrong ; "  but  this  was  not  all  the  truth.  Walpole 
had  built  a  magnificent  house  at  Houghton  in  Nor- 
folk, which  completely  overshadowed  Townshend's 
at  Rainham,  in  the  same  county.  At  Houghton  he 
gave  frequent  entertainments,  to  which  politicians 
and  place-hunters  flocked  in  great  numbers,  turning 
their  backs  on  Townshend.  Walpole  kept  a  sort  of 
public  table,  which  was  much  frequented  by  the 
country  gentlemen,  and  the  house  was  always  full. 
Scenes  of  the  wildest  revelry  were  enacted  at 
Houghton,  and  Walpole's  hospitality  often  degener- 
ated into  drunken  orgies  disfigured  by  licence  of  con- 
duct and  coarseness  of  speech.  His  annual  parties 
in  the  shooting  season  were  said  to  cost  as  much  as 
,£3,000.  "  The  noise  and  uproar,"  says  Coxe,  his 
panegyrist,  "the  waste  and  confusion  were  prodigious. 
The  best  friends  of  Sir  Robert  Wralpole  in  vain 
remonstrated  against  the  scene  of  riot  and  misrule. 
As  the  Minister  himself  was  fond  of  mirth  and 
jollity,  the  conviviality  of  their  meetings  was  too 
frequently  carried  to  excess,  and  Lord  Townshend, 
whose  dignity  of  deportment  and  decorum  of 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          139 

character  revolted  against  these  scenes,  which  he 
called  the  bacchanalian  orgies  of  Hough  ton,  not 
infrequently  quitted  Rainham  during  their  continu- 
ance." l 

To  Hough  ton  Walpole  often  brought  his  mis- 
tress, Maria  Skerrett,  whom  he  maintained  openly, 
notwithstanding  that  his  wife  was  still  alive.  He 
had  one  daughter  by  her.2  Maria  Skerrett's  origin 
was  uncertain,  though  it  was  not  so  obscure  as 
her  enemies  made  out ;  she  was  a  friend  of  Lady 
Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  and  her  contemporaries 
have  testified  to  her  good  heart.  But  she  was  an 
immoral  woman  of  great  licence  of  speech  and 
behaviour,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  Walpole  was 
her  first  lover.  He  gave  her  ,£5,000  down,  and  a 
large  allowance.  The  Prime  Minister's  conduct  in 
this  matter  gave  great  disgust  to  Townshend  and 
the  stricter  of  his  supporters.  The  Queen,  however, 
made  light  of  it,  saying  that  she  "  was  glad  if  he 
had  any  amusement  for  his  leisure  hours,"  but  she 
couldn't  understand  how  he  could  care  for  a  woman 
who  evidently  loved  him  only  for  his  money.  While 
of  Skerrett,  she  said  :  "  She  must  be  a  clever  woman 
to  have  made  him  believe  she  cares  for  him  on  any 
other  score  ;  and  to  show  you  what  fools  we  all  are 
in  some  point  or  other,  she  certainly  has  told  him 
some  fine  story  or  other  of  her  love  and  her  passion, 

1  Coxe's  Life  of  Walpole. 

2  This  daughter  was  eventually  given  the  rank  of  earl's  daughter, 
and  married   Mr.  Churchill,  a  son  of  General  Churchill.     Walpole 
married    Maria   Skerrett   after   his  wife's  death,  but  she  died  soon 
after  her  marriage. 


and  that  poor  man  avec  ce  gros  corps,  ces  jambes 
enfldes,  et  ce  vilain  ventre  believes  her.  Ah !  what 
is  human  nature !  " 

As  the  differences  between  Walpole  and  Town- 
shend  extended  not  only  to  their  political  relations 
but  to  their  private  life,  it  was  not  long  before 
matters  came  to  a  crisis.  They  were  dining  one 
night  with  Colonel  Selwyn  and  his  lady  in  Cleve- 
land Row,  opposite  St.  James's  Palace,  and  after 
dinner,  when  Walpole,  as  usual,  had  drunk  too 
much  wine,  a  dispute  arose  in  which  the  Prime 
Minister  so  far  lost  his  usual  good  humour  as  to 
reply  to  a  taunt  of  Townshend's  by  shouting  :  "  My 
Lord,  for  once  there  is  no  man's  sincerity  whom  I 
so  much  doubt  as  your  Lordship's".  Townshend, 
who  was  of  a  hasty  temperament,  sprang  at 
Walpole  and  seized  him  by  the  throat ;  the  Prime 
Minister  laid  hold  of  his  antagonist  in  turn,  they 
struggled  together  and  clapped  hands  on  their 
swords.  The  whole  party  was  in  an  uproar  ;  Mrs. 
Selwyn  shrieked  and  ran  out  of  the  house  to  sum- 
mon the  palace  guard,  but  she  was  stopped  by 
Henry  Pelham,  who  entreated  her  not  to  make  a 
scandal,  and  used  the  same  argument  with  the  two 
Ministers.  After  a  time  they  were  pacified  a  little, 
and  a  duel  was  prevented  ;  but  the  quarrel  was  too 
serious  to  be  patched  up. 

Townshend  shortly  after  resigned  his  office  in 
the  Government  and  withdrew  to  Rainham  ;  he 
embarked  no  more  in  politics,  but  spent  the  rest 
of  his  days  in  improving  agriculture.  His  retire- 


ment  meant  more  than  appeared  on  the  surface, 
for  he  had  considerable  influence  with  the  King. 
It  involved  also  the  ascendency  of  the  Queen 
and  the  defeat  of  Mrs.  Howard,  whose  friend  he 
was.  Henceforward  there  was  no  one  to  thwart 
the  influence  of  the  Queen  and  Walpole.  William 
Stanhope,  who  had  been  created  Lord  Harrington 
for  his  services  in  connexion  with  the  Treaty  of 
Seville,  was  now  made  Secretary  of  State.  He  was 
an  admirable  diplomatist  but  a  poor  speaker,  and 
though  he  made  but  an  indifferent  figure  in  Parlia- 
ment, his  moderation,  prudence  and  sagacity  made 
him  a  very  useful  minister.  Lord  Harrington  and 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle  were  now  the  only  persons 
of  any  importance  in  the  Government  except  its 

Thomas  Pelham,  Duke  of  Newcastle,  was  one 
of  the  greatest  noblemen  of  his  time  by  sheer  force 
of  his  wealth.  He  had  an  enormous  rent  roll,  he 
maintained  princely  establishments,  he  spent  freely 
on  display,  yet  he  was  unable  to  attach  to  himself 
a  single  friend.  "The  Duke  of  Newcastle,"  writes 
one  who  knew  him,  "  hath  spent  half  a  million  and 
made  the  fortunes  of  five  hundred  men,  and  yet 
is  not  allowed  to  have  one  real  friend."1  But  the 
fact  that  he  scattered  lavish  sums  at  elections  to 
support  the  Hanoverian  succession,  owned  a  large 
number  of  boroughs  and  had  vast  patronage,  sufficed 
to  give  him  many  apparent  friends,  from  the  King 
downwards.  He  was  a  poor  speaker,  he  was  weak 

1  Dr.  King's  Anecdotes  of  My  Own  Time. 


and  mean-spirited,  and  his  ignorance  of  matters  con- 
nected with  his  office  was  almost  incredible.  On  one 
occasion  the  defence  of  Annapolis  was  recommended 
to  him.  "  Ah !  "  he  said  after  some  reflection,  "  to 
be  sure,  Annapolis  ought  to  be  defended  ;  of  course, 
Annapolis  must  be  defended.  By  the  by,  where  is 
Annapolis?"  As  we  have  seen,  the  King  when 
Prince  of  Wales  had  the  strongest  aversion  to  him, 
but  now  the  duke  stood  high  in  office.  Yet  the 
King  does  not  seem  to  have  loved  him.  "You 
see,"  he  said  to  one  of  his  friends,  "  I  am  compelled 
to  take  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  to  be  my  minister, 
though  he  is  not  fit  to  be  a  chamberlain  in  the 
smallest  court  of  Germany."  But,  however  poor 
the  duke's  capacity  might  be,  he  had  great  wealth 
and  influence,  and  then,  as  now,  men  of  his  type 
were  foisted  on  the  public  service  to  the  detriment 
of  the  nation. 

For  the  first  time  since  the  accession  of  the  House 
of  Hanover  to  the  throne,  the  Government  had  re- 
spite from  Jacobite  intrigues.  The  Treaty  of  Seville 
(1729)  and  the  second  Treaty  of  Vienna  (1731) 
established  friendly  relations  between  the  English 
Government  and  all  the  European  powers,  so  that 
none  of  them,  not  even  Roman  Catholic  countries 
like  Spain  and  Austria,  could  any  longer  lend  out- 
ward support  to  James.  Moreover  the  Jacobite 
party  lost,  almost  at  the  same  time,  all  their  greatest 
men.  Lord  Mar  died  at  Aix-la-Chapelle.  The 
Duke  of  Wharton,  who,  while  pretending  loyalty 
to  his  master,  had  been  negotiating  for  a  return  to 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          143 

England,  died  in  Spain  in  comparative  poverty,  and 
so  closed  his  career  of  splendid  infamy.  Bishop 
Atterbury,  the  ablest  of  all,  had  fallen  out  of  favour 
with  James,  chiefly  because  of  his  wish  to  bring  up 
the  young  Prince  Charles  Edward  in  the  faith  of 
the  Church  of  England.  When  James  saw  the  folly 
of  alienating  him  it  was  too  late.  Atterbury  died  a 
few  weeks  after  he  had  sent  to  James  a  copy  of  his 
vindication  of  the  charges  brought  against  him  by 
Lord  Inverness,  and  the  Jacobite  cause  lost  its  wisest 

James  was  so  unpopular  in  England  at  this 
time,  even  among  his  own  supporters,  that  societies 
were  formed  to  discuss  the  propriety  of  transferring 
their  allegiance  to  his  son,  Prince  Charles  Edward, 
and  reports  were  persistently  circulated  that  the 
young  Prince  was  to  be  taken  from  his  father's 
guardianship  and  brought  up  in  the  religion  of 
the  Church  of  England.  This  plan  was  at  first 
supported  by  Bolingbroke,  who  did  his  utmost  to 
bring  it  about,  and  it  gained  so  much  credence  that 
in  1733  Sir  Archer  Croft  declared  in  the  House  of 
Commons  that  "  The  Pretender  was  the  more  to  be 
feared  because  they  did  not  know  but  that  he  was 
then  breeding  his  son  a  Protestant M.1  Had  this  been 
true  it  would  have  been  the  severest  possible  blow 
for  the  Hanoverian  family.  It  would  have  done 
away  with  their  reason  for  occupying  the  throne,  and 
though  they  could  not  have  been  expected  to  abdicate 
of  their  own  free  will,  yet  the  personal  unpopularity 

1  Parliamentary  History,  vol.  viii.,  p.  1,185. 


of  the  King  after  the  Queen's  death  was  so  great 
that  the  rising  of  '45  would  probably  have  had  a 
different  ending.  But  it  was  not  true,  for  in  matters 
of  religion  James  was  as  great  a  bigot  as  his  father, 
and  Atterbury's  death  put  an  end  to  all  such  plans. 

The  Duchess  of  Buckingham  often  went  to 
Paris  to  have  conferences  with  Atterbury  on  this 
question,  and  the  Bishop  used  his  influence  with 
her  to  prevent  the  Duke  of  Berwick  from  giving 
a  Roman  Catholic  tutor  to  her  son,  the  young  duke. 
The  duchess  pretended  that  her  interviews  with 
Atterbury  were  wholly  connected  with  her  son's 
education,  but  Walpole  knew  that  was  only  a  pretext 
to  hide  her  Jacobite  intrigues.  The  duchess  had  a 
great  position  in  England  as  head  of  the  Jacobite 
ladies  ;  she  was  in  fact  a  sort  of  Jacobite  Duchess  of 
Marlborough,  and  a  rival  of  that  illustrious  dowager, 
whom  in  arrogance  and  pride  she  strongly  resembled. 
Like  her  she  possessed  enormous  wealth,  and  Buck- 
ingham House  vied  in  magnificence  with  Marlborough 
House  across  the  park.  Both  the  duchesses  disliked 
and  despised  the  Hanoverian  family,  though  from 
different  reasons,  and  both  masked  their  dislike,  and 
occasionally  did  the  King  and  Queen  the  honour,  as 
they  considered  it,  of  attending  their  drawing-rooms. 
The  two  duchesses  were  on  friendly  terms,  but  oc- 
casionally had  their  differences.  The  Duchess  of 
Buckingham  lost  her  son,  and  his  remains  were 
brought  from  Rome  to  be  interred  in  Westminster 
Abbey  with  great  pomp.  She  sent  to  her  neighbour 
across  the  park,  the  Duchess  Sarah,  to  ask  the  loan 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          145 

of  the  funeral  car  which  had  borne  the  body  of  the 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough  to  St.  Paul's.  Sarah 
spurned  this  request  with  contumely  :  "  It  carried 
my  Lord  Marlborough,"  she  sent  word  to  say,  "and 
it  shall  never  be  used  for  any  meaner  mortal."  "  I 
have  consulted  the  undertaker,"  wrote  back  the  other 
duchess,  "and  he  tells  me  I  can  have  a  finer  for 
twenty  pounds." 

The  Duchess  of  Buckingham  made  frequent  jour- 
neys to  Paris  and  Rome  to  intrigue  in  favour  of 
the  Stuarts,  of  whom  she  considered  herself  one  ;  she 
paid  visits  to  Cardinal  Fleury  at  Versailles,  but  ac- 
cording to  a  contemporary a  she  got  nothing  from 
the  cardinal  but  compliments  and  civil  excuses,  and 
was  laughed  at  both  in  Paris  and  Rome  for  her 
pompous  manner  of  travelling,  in  which  she  affected 
the  state  of  a  princess  of  the  blood  royal.  On  her 
visits  to  Paris  she  always  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  church  in  which  the  unburied  body  of  James 
the  Second  lay,  and  prayed  and  wept  over  it 
Horace  Wai  pole  says,  with  a  characteristic  touch 
of  malice,  that  despite  this  outward  show  of  grief 
she  allowed  the  royal  pall  to  rot  itself  threadbare 
through  her  parsimony.  It  is  more  likely  that 
sentiment  prevented  her  from  having  it  repaired. 
To  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  who  knew  all  her  intrigues 
almost  before  she  embarked  upon  them,  and  who 
treated  her  as  a  person  of  no  importance,  she 
made  extraordinary  overtures  to  induce  him  to 
join  with  her  in  effecting  the  restoration  of  the 

1  Dr.  King's  Anecdotes  of  My  Own  Time. 
VOL.  II.  10 


Stuarts.  She  knew  that  Walpole  was  very  fond  of  his 
daughter  by  Maria  Skerrett,  and  she  hinted  to  him 
that  it  might  be  possible  to  wed  her  to  Prince  Charles 
Edward  if  he  would  embrace  the  Stuart  cause. 
She  asked  him  if  he  remembered  what  Lord  Clar- 
endon's reward  had  been  for  helping  to  restore  the 
royal  family  ;  Sir  Robert  affected  not  to  understand, 
and  she  said  :  "  Was  he  not  allowed  to  match  his 
daughter  to  the  Duke  of  York  ? "  Walpole  smiled 
and  changed  the  subject.  The  King  had  not  the 
same  patience  with  the  Duchess  of  Buckingham's 
eccentricities  as  his  Prime  Minister,  and  would 
probably  have  taken  some  action  against  her  had 
not  Caroline  counselled  the  wiser  policy  of  ignoring 
her  Grace's  quixotic  proceedings  ;  but  on  one  occa- 
sion the  duchess  was  really  frightened  lest  the  King 
should  discover  her  little  plots.  She  had  quitted 
England  without  having  obtained  the  requisite 
permission,  and  she  wrote  to  Walpole  from  Boulogne : 
"  I  know  there  is  a  usual  form,  as  I  take  it  only  to 
be  esteemed,  of  any  peer's  asking  permission  of  the 
King  (or  Queen  in  the  present  circumstance)  to  go 
out  of  the  kingdom,  but  even  that  ceremony  I 
thought  reached  not  to  women,  whose  being  in  and 
out  of  their  country  seemed  never  to  be  of  the  least 
consequence".  In  the  same  letter  she  alludes  to 
her  intrigues,  and  speaks  of  them  as  "nonsensical 
stories  "  not  worthy  of  credence.  Walpole  took  her 
letter  to  the  Queen,  who  was  then  Regent,  and  they 
laughed  over  it  together,  but  they  let  "Princess" 
Buckingham,  as  they  called  her,  alone. 



From  the  Painting  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery 


While  the  Stuarts  were  losing  ground  Caroline 
was  working  hard  and  incessantly  to  make  the 
Hanoverian  family  acceptable  to  the  English 
nation.  By  birth  a  foreign  princess,  one  who  did 
not  arrive  upon  these  shores  until  well  into  middle 
life,  she  could  not  boast  that  she  was  "  entirely 
English  "  like  Queen  Anne,  but  it  is  remarkable, 
considering  the  great  and  obvious  disadvantages 
under  which  she  laboured,  how  well  she  succeeded  in 
impressing  her  personality  upon  the  English  people. 
She  was  careful  to  express  herself  in  public  in 
warm  admiration  of  the  laws,  customs  and  con- 
stitution of  this  country  ;  she  often  declared  that 
England  owed  everything  to  its  liberties.  Yet 
sometimes  when  the  King  abused  England,  as  he 
invariably  did  after  a  visit  to  Hanover,  speaking  of 
the  English  people  as  "  king-killers  "  and  "republi- 
cans," and  grumbling  at  their  riches  as  well  as  their 
rights,  she  would  fall  into  his  vein,  and  rail  against 
the  limited  powers  of  the  Crown,  which  rendered 
the  King  "a  puppet  of  sovereignty  "  and  a  servant 
of  Parliament.  It  is  probable  that  she  chafed  against 
the  limitations  to  the  power  of  the  Sovereign,  for 
she  was  a  woman  who  loved  to  rule  ;  but  in  theory 
she  was  all  for  liberty  and  tolerance.  But  what- 
ever her  predilections,  she  clearly  understood,  and 
acquiesced  in,  the  only  possible  terms  by  which  the 
Hanoverian  family  were  allowed  to  reign  in  Eng- 
land. As  she  could  not  increase  the  limited  power 
of  the  Crown  in  political  matters,  she  determined  to 
increase  its  unlimited  influence  in  other  directions, 


and  to  this  end  she  encouraged  everything  which 
helped  to  promote  the  well-being  and  prosperity  of 
the  people,  especially  those  movements  which  had 
a  national  origin.  This  was  especially  the  case  with 
home  industries.  For  example,  we  read  : — 

"On  Saturday  last  a  considerable  body  of  dealers 
in  bone-lace  from  the  counties  of  Bucks,  Northamp- 
ton and  Bedford,  waited  upon  her  Majesty  with  a 
petition  on  behalf  of  their  manufacture,  and  carried 
with  them  a  parcel  of  lace  to  show  the  perfection 
they  had  brought  it  to,  and  when  her  Majesty 
showed  her  royal  intention  to  encourage  the  British 
manufacturer  by  receiving  them  very  graciously, 
and  bought  a  considerable  quantity  of  lace  for 
the  use  of  the  Royal  Family,  and  several  ladies 
followed  her  example,  the  said  dealers  in  lace 
had  the  honour  to  kiss  her  Majesty's  hand."1  And 
again  :  "On  Wednesday  last  some  of  the  Trustees 
for  Georgia  and  Sir  Thomas  Loombe  waited  upon 
her  Majesty  with  the  Georgia  silk,  which  is  to  be 
wove  into  a  piece  for  her  Majesty's  wear,  from  a 
beautiful  pattern  which  her  Majesty  chose,  and  she, 
in  a  most  gracious  manner,  expressed  satisfaction 
at  the  British  Colonies  having  produced  so  fine  a 

She  was  quick  to  encourage  English  inventions 
and  enterprise.  For  instance  :  "  On  Monday  Mr. 
Clay,  the  inventor  of  the  machine  watches  in  the 
Strand,  had  the  honour  of  exhibiting  to  her 

1  Daily  Courant,  2nd  February,  1730. 

2  Hooker's  Miscellany,  6th  August,  1735. 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          149 

Majesty  at  Kensington  his  surprising  musical 
clock,  which  gave  uncommon  satisfaction  to  all 
the  Royal  Family  present,  at  which  time  her 
Majesty,  to  encourage  so  great  an  artist,  was 
pleased  to  order  fifty  guineas  to  be  expended  for 
numbers  in  the  intended  rafHe.  by  which  we  hear 
Mr.  Clay  intends  to  dispose  of  this  said  beautiful 
and  most  complete  piece  of  machinery."1  And 
again  :  "  On  Tuesday  a  most  beautiful  hat, 
curiously  made  of  feathers  in  imitation  of  a  fine 
Brussels  lace,  was  shown  to  her  Majesty,  who,  for 
the  encouragement  of  ingenuity,  being  the  first  of 
the  kind  ever  made  in  England,  was  so  good  as  to 
purchase  it,  and  afterwards  presented  it  to  the 
Princess  of  Wales." 2 

There  was  very  little  social  legislation  during 
Walpole's  tenure  of  power,  the  great  Minister  going 
on  the  principle  of  letting  things  alone  ;  but  a  few 
useful  reforms  were  passed  from  time  to  time,  and 
in  all  of  them  the  Queen  took  a  warm  interest.  One 
was  effected  at  the  instance  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll, 
who  brought  in  a  bill  that  all  proceedings  of  the 
courts  of  justice  should  be  conducted  in  English 
instead  of  Latin  as  heretofore.  "  Our  prayers," 
said  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  "  are  in  our  native  tongue, 
so  that  they  are  intelligible  ;  and  why  should  not 
the  laws  wherein  our  lives  and  properties  are  con- 
cerned be  so,  for  the  same  reason  ?  "  The  measure 
was  carried,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  most  of  the 

1  Daily  Post,  ist  September,  1736. 

2  Weekly  Journal,  8th  May,  1736. 


lawyers  strongly  opposed  the  change  ;  Lord  Ray- 
mond, for  instance,  declared  that  if  the  bill  were 
passed  the  law  must  likewise  be  translated  into 
Welsh,  since  in  Wales  many  understood  no  English. 
Another  reform  was  the  purging  of  the  Charitable 
Corporation  from  gross  abuses.  This  corporation 
had  been  formed  for  the  relief  of  the  industrious 
poor  by  lending  them  small  sums  of  money  at 
legal  interest,  but  had  drifted  into  malpractices  and 
extortionate  usury ;  penalties  were  now  inflicted 
upon  the  malefactors,  and  the  whole  system  was 

The  Queen's  private  charities  were  very  numer- 
ous. She  would  never  refuse  a  supplicant  who 
sought  her  aid,  in  whatever  rank  of  life  he  might 
be,  and  though  her  income  was  large,  she  spent  all 
of  it,  chiefly  upon  others.  She  had  no  sense  of  the 
value  of  money,  and  with  her  to  have  was  to  spend, 
or  to  give  away,  not  always  very  wisely  perhaps, 
but  always  cheerfully.  The  journals  of  the  period 
teem  with  notices  of  her  liberality  ;  but,  even  so, 
they  did  not  represent  a  tithe  of  her  charities,  for 
she  gave  away  much  in  secret,  of  which  the  public 
never  knew.  The  following  extracts  from  news- 
papers, taken  almost  at  random,  will  serve  to  show 
how  wide  was  her  sympathy,  and  how  generous  her 
impulses : — 

"Twelve  French  Protestants,  who  were  made 
slaves  on  account  of  their  religion,  having  lately 
been  released  from  the  jails  of  France  on  the  re- 
presentation of  their  Britannic  Majesties,  and  having 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          151 

arrived  here,  a  charitable  collection  is  making  for 
them,  towards  which  the  Queen  has  given  ,£1,000." l 

"Her  Majesty  has  been  graciously  pleased  to 
give  and  bestow  the  sum  of  ,£500,  as  a  mark  of  her 
royal  bounty  and  charity,  towards  the  relief  of  the 
sufferers  in  the  late  dreadful  fire  at  Gravesend  in 
Kent."  2 

"We  hear  that  her  Majesty  has  ordered  a  sum 
of  money  to  relieve  poor  housekeepers  and  other 
families  in  necessity."  3 

"  Thursday  last  week,  the  wife  of  the  drummer  at 
Woolwich,  lately  brought  to  bed  of  three  children, 
waited  on  the  Queen,  and  her  Majesty  ordered  her 
fifty  guineas."  4 

"Mr.  James  Brown,  one  of  the  pages  of  the 
presence  to  her  Majesty,  having  been  ill  of  the 
palsy  this  year,  and  now  lying  incapable  of  doing 
his  duty,  her  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  order 
that  he  should  be  paid  his  salary  of  ^40  per  annum 
during  his  life."  5 

"  On  Tuesday  last,  her  Majesty,  together  with  the 
Duke  and  the  three  Princesses,  paid  a  visit  to  Mrs. 
Simpson,  whose  husband  is  one  of  the  keepers  of 
Bushey  Park.  She  is  106  years  old,  being  born 
in  the  town  of  Cardigan  in  the  year  1625,  is  now  in 
good  health,  and  has  all  her  senses,  except  hearing, 
perfect.  Her  Majesty  after  expressing  herself  pleased 

1  Stamford  Mercury,  nth  January,  1728. 
2 Daily  Post,  3oth  January,  1728. 

3  Fog's  Weekly  Journal,  7th  December,  1728. 

4  Weekly  Journal,  2Oth  July,  1728. 

5  London  Journal,  24th  April,  1731. 


with  the  manner  of  life  by  which  she  had  preserved 
herself  to  this  good  old  age,  made  her  a  present  of 
a  purse  of  gold."  l 

"  As  soon  as  her  Majesty  heard  of  the  misfortune 
of  the  country  girl's  breaking  both  her  thigh  bones 
by  the  overturning  of  a  cart  near  Hampton  Court, 
she  sent  some  ladies  to  enquire  the  truth  of  it,  and 
being  satisfied  thereof,  her  Majesty  was  graciously 
pleased  to  order  one  guinea  a  week  to  be  paid  for 
her  lodging,  nurse  and  diet,  and  directed  the  surgeon 
to  take  particular  care  of  the  girl,  and  her  Majesty 
would  pay  him." 

"  Her  Majesty  being  informed  of  the  great  benefit 
the  inhabitants  of  the  city  and  liberties  of  West- 
minster received  from  the  infirmaries  established 
there  for  the  relief  of  such  of  their  poor  as  are  sick 
and  lame,  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  send  to 
each  such  infirmary  a  bounty  of  ^100  to  promote 
so  useful  a  charity."3 

"We  hear  that  her  Majesty  has  lately  given  to 
the  hospital  near  Hyde  Park  Corner,  the  sum  of 

t(  Last  Saturday  when  the  Royal  Family  returned 
from  hunting,  her  Majesty  was  told  by  Lady  Delo- 
raine  that  the  Princess  Louisa  had  been  pleased  to 
stand  godmother  to  the  twins  of  Mrs.  Palairet,  wife 
of  her  Highness's  writing  master.  Whereupon  her 

1  Daily  Post,  23rd  September,  1731. 
a Daily  Courant ,  ist  October,  1733. 

3  Hooker's  Miscellany,  2Oth  April,  1734. 

4  Reed's  Weekly  Journal,  i$th  June,  1734. 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          153 

Majesty  ordered  the  motherand  children  to  be  brought 
to  her,  when  her  Majesty,  finding  that  Mrs.  Palairet 
intended  to  suckle  them  both  herself,  was  graciously 
pleased  with  the  courage  and  tenderness  of  the 
mother  in  undertaking  the  hard  task,  and  ordered 
her  a  purse  of  guineas." l 

"  Last  Sunday  a  great  number  of  the  widows  of 
the  Navy,  whose  husbands  died  before  August, 
1732,  and  were  unprovided,  waited  on  the  Queen 
at  Kensington  with  their  humble  address  of  thanks 
for  the  provision  they  lately  received  upon  their 
humble  petition  presented  to  her  Majesty  on  Sun- 
day, 29th  April."2 

"  Her  Majesty  going  through  Hammersmith  was 
pleased  to  order  ten  guineas  for  the  poor  haymakers, 
who  were  very  numerous  on  the  road." 3 

"  Her  Majesty  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  send 
fifty  guineas  towards  the  relief  of  the  unhappy  suf- 
ferers by  the  late  fire  in  Cecil's  Court  in  St.  Martin's 

"Her  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  declare  her 
royal  intention  of  bestowing  ,£5,000  towards  building 
and  endowing  a  hospital  for  foundling  children." 5 

"Her  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  order  the  royal 
gardens  at  Richmond  to  be  free  to  all  in  the  same 
manner  as  those  at  Kensington  are  when  the  Royal 
Family  does  not  reside  there,  so  that  the  walks  are 

1  Daily  Journal,  26th  October,  1734. 

2  Hooker's  Miscellany,  xyth  June,  1735. 

3  General  Evening  Post,  ijth  June,  1735. 
4 Hooker's  Miscellany,  izth  July,  1736. 

6  Reed's  Weekly  Journal,  3ist  July,  1736. 


full  of  company  every  evening  to  the  great  advantage 
of  the  town  and  the  neighbourhood."  l 

"  Her  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  grant  a  charter 
and  to  give  a  donation  to  the  governors  of  the 
infirmary  at  Hyde  Park  Corner,  to  establish  them- 
selves into  a  corporation,  the  same  to  be  called  St. 
George's  Hospital."2 

Queen  Caroline  was  a  constant  and  generous 
patron  of  learning ;  she  twice  gave  donations  of 
;£i,ooo  to  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  and  she  tried 
in  many  ways  to  advance  the  interests  of  education. 
Science,  especially  medical  science,  found  in  her 
a  warm  supporter.  Under  the  guidance  of  Sir 
Hans  Sloane,  President  of  the  Royal  Society,  she 
lent  her  aid  to  any  movement  to  promote  the  health 
of  the  people,  and  any  doctor  or  man  of  science  who 
distinguished  himself  was  sure  of  receiving  notice 
and  encouragement  from  her.  Perhaps  her  most 
notable  achievement  in  the  advancement  of  science 
was  the  support  which  she  gave  to  Lady  Mary 
Wortley  Montagu,  who,  on  her  return  from  the  East, 
introduced  inoculation  as  a  safeguard  against  small- 
pox into  England.  This  beneficent  discovery  was 
opposed  with  great  clamour  by  the  clergy,  the  more 
ignorant  of  the  doctors,  and  the  middle  and  lower 
classes,  and  Lady  Mary  would  certainly  have  failed 
had  not  Caroline  stood  by  her  side  from  first  to  last. 
She  and  her  husband  and  children  were  inoculated, 
and  by  her  example  and  determination  she  pre- 

1  Universal  Spectator,  nth  September,  1736. 
*Reed's  Weekly  Journal,  i8th  September,  1736. 

THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  NATION          155 

vailed  on  the  higher  classes  and  the  more  enlightened 
people  to  be  inoculated  also,  and  so  make  the  prac- 
tice general. 

Queen  Caroline  held  firmly  to  the  principle  that 
the  welfare  of  the  people  should  be  the  first  care  of 
princes,  and  she  strove  in  every  way  to  ameliorate 
their  lot.  Parliament  did  little  for  them  in  Caroline's 
day,  the  era  of  social  legislation  had  scarcely  begun 
to  dawn.  The  wars  of  nations,  the  conflicts  of 
dynasties,  the  strife  of  creeds  absorbed  all  energies, 
and  in  the  noise  and  heat  thus  engendered  the  needs 
of  the  people  were  thrust  aside  and  forgotten.  The 
condition  of  the  poor  not  only  in  the  large  towns, 
but  in  the  country  districts,  was  deplorable  in  the 
extreme.  Many  of  them  were  sunk  in  ignorance  and 
vice,  and  treated  like  beasts  of  burden.  There  was 
much  talk  about  the  liberties  of  the  nation,  but  the 
lower  classes  of  the  people  were  little  better  than 
serfs.  Neither  Whig  nor  Tory  did  anything  for 
them ;  they  had  no  votes  and  the  politician  passed 
them  by.  Under  such  conditions  the  influence  of 
one  woman,  however  highly  placed,  could  do  little. 
Let  it  be  recorded  that  in  an  epoch  when  the  duty  of 
man  to  his  fellow-man  was  least  understood,  when 
the  national  selfishness  was  greatest  and  the  national 
ideals  were  lowest,  Queen  Caroline  did  what  she 




QUEEN  CAROLINE  is  distinguished  from  the  other 
Queens-Consort  of  England  as  the  one  who  took 
a  genuine  interest  in  literature  ;  in  this  respect  she 
surpassed  all  our  Queens-Regnant  as  well,  though 
Elizabeth,  and  in  a  far  lesser  sense  Anne,  showed 
an  appreciation  of  letters.  The  age  of  Elizabeth 
has  been  called  the  golden  age  of  English  liter- 
ature :  the  reign  of  Anne  the  Augustan  period. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  correctness  of 
the  first  of  these  designations ;  the  second  is  open 
to  cavil.  But  though  the  English  writers  who 
flourished  during  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century  could  not  compare  in  loftiness  or  genius 
to  the  writers  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  yet  they 
formed  a  galaxy  of  talent — talent  amounting  in 
some  instances  to  positive  genius — which  England 
has  never  witnessed  since.  This  galaxy  shone 
throughout  the  reigns  of  Anne  and  George  the  First, 
but  soon  after  Caroline  came  to  the  throne  its  brilliance 
began  to  wane.  Some  of  the  greatest  writers  were 
dead,  and  others  had  already  given  their  best  work 
to  the  world. 

It    must    be    admitted    that    Queen    Caroline's 


judgment  in  literature  was  not  always  as  sound  as 
her  interest  was  genuine — in  English  literature  at 
least.  Her  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  English 
language  had  something  to  do  with  this  ;  one 
can  hardly  master  the  literature  of  a  country  if  one 
does  not  begin  to  speak  its  language  until  middle 
life.  In  French  and  German  literature  she  was 
far  better  equipped.  She  had  read  much  and 
widely  of  them  both,  and  of  her  favourite  studies 
of  metaphysics,  philosophy  and  theology  had  per- 
haps taken  in  more  than  she  could  assimilate.  Her 
correspondence  with  learned  and  scientific  men  kept 
her  abreast  of  the  best  thought  of  the  time,  and  no 
work  of  conspicuous  merit  made  its  appearance  in 
Europe  without  Caroline's  coming,  directly  or  in- 
directly, in  touch  with  its  author.  When  Voltaire, 
for  instance,  visited  England  he  received  ready  help 
and  generous  appreciation  at  Caroline's  hands. 

Voltaire  came  to  England  in  1726,  after  his 
quarrel  with  the  Duke  de  Sully.  Some  months' 
detention  in  the  Bastille,  followed  by  an  order  to 
quit  Paris,  had  driven  him  into  exile.  In  the 
warmth  of  his  welcome  to  England  he  found  a 
balm  for  his  wounded  feelings,  and  he  stayed  in 
this  country  more  than  two  years.  He  found  in 
England  many  congenial  spirits,  and  delighted 
in  the  freedom  of  discussion  and  latitude  of  opinion 
everywhere  prevalent,  from  the  Court  downwards, 
especially  in  the  brilliant  literary  circle  where  he 
foregathered.  He  warmly  admired  the  religious  and 
civil  liberty  of  England,  and  testified  his  admira- 


tion  in  his  Lettres  Philosophiques,  also  called  Lettres 
sur  les  Anglais.  He  wrote  in  England  his  Tragedy 
of  Brutus,  and  here  also  he  brought  out,  in 
1728,  the  first  edition  of  his  poem  La  Henriade. 
To  Caroline,  who  often  received  him  at  Leicester 
House  as  Princess  of  Wales,  and  who  welcomed 
him  with  equal  cordiality  at  court  when  she  became 
Queen,  he  dedicated  this  edition  of  La  Henriade. 
The  dedication,  in  English,  ran  as  follows  : — 

"  To  THE  QUEEN. 

"  MADAM — It  was  the  fate  of  Henry  the  Fourth 
to  be  protected  by  an  English  Queen.  He  was 
assisted  by  the  great  Elizabeth,  who  was  in  her  age 
the  glory  of  her  sex.  By  whom  can  his  memory  be 
so  well  protected  as  by  her  who  resembles  so  much 
Elizabeth  in  her  personal  virtues  ? 

"  Your  Majesty  will  find  in  this  book  bold, 
impartial  truths ;  morality  unstained  with  supersti- 
tion ;  a  spirit  of  liberty,  equally  abhorrent  of  rebellion 
and  of  tyranny;  the  rights  of  kings  always  asserted, 
and  those  of  mankind  never  laid  aside. 

"  The  same  spirit  in  which  it  is  written  gave  me 
the  confidence  to  offer  it  to  the  virtuous  Consort  of  a 
King  who,  among  so  many  crowned  heads,  enjoys 
almost  alone  the  inestimable  honour  of  ruling  a 
free  nation;  a  King  who  makes  his  power  consist 
in  being  beloved,  and  his  glory  in  being  just. 

"  Our  Descartes,  who  was  the  greatest  phil- 
osopher in  Europe  before  Sir  Isaac  Newton  ap- 
peared, dedicated  the  Principles  to  the  celebrated 


Princess  Palatine  Elizabeth  ;  not,  said  he,  because 
she  was  a  princess  (for  true  philosophers  respect 
princes,  and  never  flatter  them)  ;  but  because  of  all 
his  readers  she  understood  him  the  best,  and  loved 
truth  the  most. 

"  I  beg  leave,  Madam  (without  comparing  myself 
to  Descartes),  to  dedicate  La  Henriade  to  your 
Majesty  upon  the  like  account,  and  not  only  as  the 
protectress  of  all  arts  and  sciences,  but  as  the  best 
judge  of  them. 

"  I  am,  with  that  profound  respect  which  is  due 
to  the  greatest  virtue  as  well  as  the  highest  rank, 
may  it  please  your  Majesty,  your  Majesty's  most 
humble,  most  dutiful,  and  most  obliged  servant, 


Even  if  we  allow  for  flattery,  and  Voltaire  was 
not  given  to  flattering  princes,  this  dedication  is  a 
remarkable  tribute  to  Caroline's  mental  powers  and 
her  interest  in  the  arts.  Voltaire  must  have  known 
of  her  friendship  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton ;  he  had 
probably  heard  of  her  admiration  for  Queen  Eliza- 
beth ;  and  he  skilfully  wove  allusions  to  both  in  his 

The  first  edition  of  La  Henriade  was  sold  to 
subscribers  at  one  guinea  a  copy,  and  had  a  great 
success.  The  Queen  herself  solicited  subscriptions 
for  it  among  her  friends,  and  the  edition  was  soon 
exhausted.  Nor  did  her  interest  stop  here.  She 
persuaded  the  King  to  give  Voltaire  a  present  of 
two  thousand  crowns,  equal  to  ^500,  and  she  added 


to  this  a  further  present  of  ^200  from  her  privy 
purse,  and  sent  Voltaire  her  portrait. 

English  men  of  letters  were  not  so  fortunate  as 
Voltaire  in  winning  the  favour  of  the  court.  When 
she  was  Princess  of  Wales  Caroline  made  welcome 
any  literary  man  of  eminence  to  Leicester  House 
whatever  his  creed  or  party,  Papist  or  Arian,  Jacobite, 
Whig  or  Tory.  George  the  First's  contempt  for 
literature  made  her  graciousness  the  more  marked, 
and  perhaps  it  was  her  affability  and  eagerness 
to  please  that  gave  rise  to  expectations  which  were 
later  unfulfilled.  For  it  is  certain  that  many  emi- 
nent writers  of  prose  and  verse  expected  great 
things  when  Caroline  became  Queen ;  and  it  is 
equally  certain  that  they  were  grievously  disap- 
pointed. Whether  with  all  the  goodwill  in  the 
world,  and  all  the  power,  the  Queen  could  have 
satisfied  every  one  of  them  may  be  doubted,  for  the 
literary  mind  is  not  prone  to  underrate  its  merits. 
As  events  turned  out  she  could  do  little  or  nothing 
for  any  man  of  letters,  unless  he  were  eligible  for 
preferment  in  the  Church.  She  found  herself  as 
Queen  in  a  position  of  less  freedom  and  greater  re- 
sponsibility. She  was  as  anxious  as  ever  to  befriend 
literary  men,  but  in  this  respect  she  found  herself 
thwarted  by  the  King  and  opposed  by  Walpole  ;  her 
difficulties  too  were  increased  by  the  fact  that  nearly 
every  writer  of  talent  was  either  openly  or  secretly 
hostile  to  the  Government. 

For  this  hostility  Walpole  was  to  blame  ;  he 
had  inaugurated  a  new  policy.  During  the  reign 


of  William  and  Anne,  and  even  in  the  reign  of 
George  the  First  while  Townshend  and  Stanhope 
were  Prime  Ministers,  literary  men  were  courted  and 
caressed  by  those  in  authority.  In  short  it  has 
been  well  said  that  "  though  the  Sovereign  was 
never  an  Augustus  every  minister  was  a  Maecenas  ". 
Lucrative  places  were  found  for  many  writers  in 
departments  of  the  civil  service,  and  others  were 
aided  to  enter  Parliament  or  diplomacy. 

But  when  Walpole  became  Prime  Minister  in 
1721  he  changed  all  this,  and  set  his  face  like  a 
flint  against  employing  literary  men  in  the  public 
service  in  any  capacity  whatsoever.  In  this  he  was 
supported  by  George  the  First,  and  his  successor 
George  the  Second,  who  both  despised  literature  and 
never  opened  a  book.  The  number  of  readers  was 
far  more  limited  then  than  now  (though  perhaps  they 
were  more  discriminating),  and  writing  books  was 
consequently  less  lucrative.  When  men  of  talent 
and  genius  saw  the  avenues  of  patronage  and  of 
usefulness  in  the  State  suddenly  closed  to  them  by 
the  Prime  Minister,  it  is  no  wonder  that  they  placed 
their  pens  at  the  service  of  the  Opposition,  led  as  it 
was  by  two  men  so  appreciative  of  the  claims  of  liter- 
ature as  Bolingbroke  and  Pulteney.  But  Walpole 
did  not  heed,  and  for  twenty  years  followed  the 
same  policy.  "  No  writer  need  apply  "  was  written 
over  every  door  that  led  to  preferment  in  the  State. 
But  in  the  long  run  the  writers  had  their  revenge, 
and  his  neglect  of  the  pamphleteers  was  one  of  the 
chief  causes  that  led  to  Walpole's  fall. 

VOL.   II.  II 


Queen  Caroline  had  promised  so  fair  when 
Princess  of  Wales,  and  her  influence  over  her  hus- 
band was  known  to  be  so  great,  that  many  literary 
men  looked  forward  to  her  coming  to  the  throne  as 
likely  to  bring  about  a  revival  of  the  Augustan  age 
of  Queen  Anne.  They  were  bitterly  disappointed 
when  they  found  her  in  close  accord  with  the  Minister 
who  had  slammed  the  door  of  patronage  in  their 
faces,  and  many  considered  that  she  had  betrayed 
them.  They  forgot  that  in  an  alliance  like  that 
between  the  Queen  and  Walpole  each  had  to 
yield  something,  and  the  Queen  yielded  some  of 
her  interest  in  letters  for  the  larger  interests  she 
had  at  stake.  It  was  a  pity  that  with  so  real  a 
desire  to  help  literature  Caroline  was  able  to  do  so 
little.  It  was  a  still  greater  pity  that  after  she  be- 
came Queen  her  relations  with  some  of  the  greatest 
English  men  of  letters,  like  Swift,  Gay  and  Pope, 
were  strained  to  breaking  point.  The  fault  was 
not  all  on  her  side,  and  in  some  cases  the  breach 
was  inevitable,  but  it  was  none  the  less  unfortunate. 

Swift,  who  had  fallen  with  Bolingbroke  in  1714, 
visited  England  in  1726,  for  the  first  time  since  the 
death  of  Queen  Anne,  probably  with  the  object  of 
effecting  a  reconciliation  with  the  reigning  dynasty. 
He  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Howard  through 
his  friends  Pope  and  Gay,  and  was  introduced  by 
her  to  Caroline,  then  Princess  of  Wales.  Writing 
years  later  to  the  Duchess  of  Queensberry,  who  hated 
Caroline,  Swift  declared  that  "a  nameless  person" 
(the  Queen)  "sent  me  eleven  messages  before  I  would 



yield  her  a  visit".  This  was  surely  an  exaggera- 
tion, and  it  was  written  at  a  time  when  Swift,  having 
lost  all  hope  of  preferment  from  the  Queen,  was 
paying  his  court  to  the  duchess.  Swift  no  doubt 
was  quite  as  ready  to  have  an  audience  as  Caroline 
was  to  grant  him  one.  He  began  the  conversation 
by  saying  that  he  knew  the  Princess  loved  to  see 
odd  persons,  and  having  seen  a  wild  boy  from 
Germany,  he  supposed  she  now  had  a  curiosity 
to  see  a  wild  dean  from  Ireland.  Caroline  laughed, 
and  found  in  his  genius  an  excuse  for  the  lack  of 
courtly  manners.  He  came  several  times  to  Leicester 

Swift  returned  to  Ireland  well  pleased  with 
his  reception,  though  no  definite  promise  of  what 
he  desired,  English  preferment,  had  been  given 
him.  He  came  again  to  England  early  the  follow- 
ing year,  1727,  as  it  proved  for  the  last  time. 
His  coming  was  heralded  by  the  publication  of  his 
famous  satire,  Gulliver  s  Travels.  Caroline  read  the 
book  with  delight,  and  when  the  author  presented 
himself  at  Leicester  House  welcomed  him  most 
graciously.  She  accepted  from  him  a  present  ot 
Irish  poplins,  and  promised  him  a  medallion  of  her- 
self in  return.  Swift  was  also  a  constant  and 
welcome  guest  in  the  apartments  of  Mrs.  Howard, 
and  met  there,  besides  many  men  of  letters,  politicians 
of  the  stamp  of  Townshend  and  Compton.  He  was 
in  England  at  the  time  of  George  the  First's  death, 
and  kissed  the  hands  of  the  new  King  and  Queen. 
For  a  time  he  was  full  of  hope,  but  his  expectations 


received  a  shock  when  he  found  Walpole,  "  Bob  the 
poet's  foe,"  confirmed  in  power.  He  went  back  to 
Ireland,  cast  down  but  not  dismayed,  and  waited 
there  for  the  summons  that  never  came. 

For  some  time  the  dean  placed  faith  in  Mrs. 
Howard,  and  more  especially  in  the  Queen's  gracious- 
ness.  He  knew  also  the  Queen's  views  on  Church 
matters,  and  his  unorthodoxy,  which  had  hindered 
Anne  from  making  him  a  bishop,  would,  he  thought, 
be  a  point  in  his  favour  with  Caroline.  His  command- 
ing literary  abilities  ought  certainly  to  have  given  him 
a  strong  claim  upon  her  consideration.  But  Swift, 
the  friend  of  Bolingbroke,  was  disliked  by  Walpole, 
and  Caroline  distrusted  every  one  who  was  intimate 
with  Bolingbroke.  Moreover  Swift  thought,  like  so 
many  others,  that  the  way  to  the  King's  favour  lay 
through  his  mistress  rather  than  his  wife,  and  on 
both  his  visits  to  England  he  paid  great  court  to 
Mrs.  Howard,  visiting  her  frequently,  flattering  her, 
telling  her  some  of  his  best  stories,  and  writing  her 
some  of  his  wittiest  letters.  Caroline,  who  knew  of 
this  friendship,  resented  it,  and  though  she  gave  the 
'great  dean  audience,  and  was  affable  to  him  as  she 
was  to  every  one,  she  made  a  mental  note  against 
his  name,  and  never  helped  him  to  realise  his  wish 
of  obtaining  English  preferment.  She  had  never 
promised  to  give  it  to  him,  but  she  had  promised  to 
send  him  her  medallion.  Swift,  who  for  some  time 
after  his  return  to  Ireland,  kept  up  a  correspondence 
with  Mrs.  Howard,  wrote  to  her  recalling  the 
Queen's  promise. 


"  First,  therefore,"  he  writes,  "  I  call  you  to 
witness  that  I  did  not  attend  on  the  Queen  until  I 
had  received  her  repeated  messages,  which,  of 
course,  occasioned  my  being  introduced  to  you.  I 
never  asked  anything  till,  upon  leaving  England  for 
the  first  time,  I  desired  from  you  a  present  worth  a 
guinea,  and  from  her  Majesty  one  worth  ten  pounds, 
by  way  of  a  memorial.  Yours  I  received,  and  the 
Queen,  upon  taking  my  leave  of  her,  made  an 
excuse  that  she  had  intended  a  medal  for  me,  which 
not  being  ready,  she  would  send  it  me  the  Christmas 
following  :  yet  this  was  never  done,  nor  at  all 
remembered  when  I  went  back  to  England  the  next 
year,  and  attended  her  as  I  had  done  before.  I 
must  now  tell  you,  madam,  that  I  will  receive  no 
medal  from  her  Majesty,  nor  anything  less  than  her 
picture  at  half-length,  drawn  by  Jervas  ;  and  if  he 
takes  it  from  another  original,  the  Queen  shall  at 
least  sit  twice  for  him  to  touch  it  up.  I  desire  you 
will  let  her  Majesty  know  this  in  plain  words, 
although  I  have  heard  I  am  under  her  dis- 
pleasure. .  .  . 

"Against  you  I  have  but  one  reproach,  that 
when  I  was  last  in  England,  and  just  after  the  present 
King's  accession,  I  resolved  to  pass  that  summer  in 
France,  for  which  I  had  then  a  most  lucky  oppor- 
tunity, from  which  those  who  seemed  to  love  me 
well,  dissuaded  me  by  your  advice.  And  when  I 
sent  you  a  note,  conjuring  you  to  lay  aside  the 
character  of  a  courtier  and  a  favourite  upon  that 
occasion,  your  answer  positively  directed  me  not  to 


go  at  that  juncture  ;  and  you  said  the  same  thing 
to  my  friends  who  seemed  to  have  power  of  giving 
me  hints,  that  I  might  reasonably  have  expected  a 
settlement1  in  England,  which.  God  knows,  is  no 
great  ambition  considering  the  station  I  should  leave 
here,  of  greater  dignity,  which  might  easily  have 
been  managed  to  be  disposed  of  as  the  Crown 
pleased.  .  .  . 

"  I  wish  her  Majesty  would  a  little  remember 
what  I  largely  said  to  her  about  Ireland,  when 
before  a  witness  she  gave  me  leave,  and  commanded 
me  to  tell  here  what  she  spoke  to  me  upon  that 
subject,  and  ordered  me,  if  I  lived  to  see  her  in 
her  present  station,  to  send  her  our  grievances, 
promising  to  read  my  letter,  and  do  all  good  offices 
in  her  power  for  this  most  miserable  and  most  loyal 
kingdom,  now  at  the  brink  of  ruin,  and  never  so 
near  as  now. 

"  As  to  myself,  I  repeat  again  that  I  have  asked 
nothing  more  than  a  trifle  as  a  memorial  of  some 
distinction,  which  her  Majesty  graciously  seemed  to 
make  between  me  and  every  common  clergyman  ; 
that  trifle  was  forgot  according  to  the  usual  method 
of  princes,  although  I  was  taught  to  think  myself 
upon  a  footing  of  obtaining  some  little  excep- 

Whether  Mrs.  Howard  laid  this  letter  before  the 
Queen,  as  the  dean  evidently  intended  her  to  do,  or 

1 A  living. 

2  Dean  Swift  to  Mrs.  Howard,  Dublin,  2ist  November,  1730. 
Suffolk  Correspondence. 


spoke  to  the  Queen  on  the  subject,  is  not  known  ; 
in  any  case  Swift  would  have  done  better  to  have 
written  directly  to  the  Queen  herself,  or  if  that  were 
impossible,  to  have  chosen  some  more  congenial 
channel  of  communication  than  Mrs.  Howard.  The 
Queen  was  jealous  of  her  influence,  and  Mrs. 
Clayton,  who  disliked  Swift,  had  been  taught  to 
think  that  ecclesiastical  recommendations  were 
especially  within  her  province.  For  Mrs.  Howard 
to  have  asked  the  Queen  for  the  meanest  curacy  for 
one  of  her  favourites  would  have  been  resented.  So 
it  came  about  that  after  Swift  had  waited  a  few 
years  longer,  heart-sick  with  deferred  hope,  he 
turned  on  Mrs.  Howard  as  well  as  her  mistress, 
though  in  the  former  case  he  was  not  only  un- 
grateful but  unjust,  for  the  poor  lady  had  not  the 
power,  though  she  had  the  will,  to  help  him.  But 
Swift  in  his  Irish  exile  could  not  be  expected  to 
know  the  true  inwardness  of  affairs  at  Court.  "As 
for  Mrs.  Howard  and  her  mistress,"  he  wrote,  "  I 
have  nothing  to  say  but  that  they  have  neither 
memory  nor  manners,  else  I  should  have  had  some 
mark  of  the  former  from  the  latter,  which  I  was 
promised  about  two  years  ago ;  but  since  I  made  them 
a  present  it  would  be  mean  to  remind  them."  He  was 
extremely  sensitive  to  slights,  and  he  resented  the 
Queen's  forgetfulness  about  the  medal  almost  as 
much  as  the  fact  that  she  omitted  him  from  her 
list  of  preferments.  Years  after,  in  a  poem  which 
he  wrote  on  his  own  death,  the  old  grievance  of  the 
medals  crops  up  again  : — 


From  Dublin  soon  to  London  spread, 
'Tis  told  at  Court  "  the  Dean  is  dead," 
And  Lady  Suffolk  in  the  spleen 
Runs  laughing  up  to  tell  the  Queen. 
The  Queen,  so  gracious,  mild  and  good, 
Cries  :  "  Is  he  gone  ?  'tis  time  he  should. 
He's  dead,  you  say — then  let  him  rot ; 
I  am  glad  the  medals  were  forgot. 
I  promised  him,  I  own  ;  but  when  ? 
I  only  was  the  princess  then  ; 
And  now  the  consort  of  a  King, 
You  know,  'tis  quite  another  thing." 

Swift  never  forgave  the  Queen's  neglect,  and  for 
years,  until  her  death,  Caroline  was  the  subject  of 
his  sharpest  satirical  attacks.  But  his  satire  failed 
to  move  her,  any  more  than  his  presents  and  com- 
pliments had  done.  The  great  dean  was  left  to  drag 
out  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  Ireland,  embittered 
by  disappointment  and  darkened  by  despair.  Pro- 
bably Walpole  interposed  his  veto  also.  It  was 
felt  that  such  a  firebrand  was  safer  in  Ireland,  and 
his  presence  in  England  might  seriously  embarrass 
the  Government.  No  doubt  there  was  something 
to  be  said  from  that  point  of  view.  But  the  way 
in  which  those  in  authority  neglected  this  great 
genius,  until  baffled  ambition  drove  him  to  drink 
and  madness,  will  ever  remain  one  of  the  most 
tragic  pages  in  the  history  of  literature. 

Gay,  like  Swift,  also  had  a  grievance  against  the 
Queen,  though  if  Swift  had  any  reason  on  his  side, 
Gay  certainly  had  none.  Caroline  had  frequently 
showed  him  kindness  when  Princess  of  Wales,  and 
had  promised  to  help  him  when  it  was  in  her  power. 
This  promise  she  redeemed  within  a  few  weeks 


of  the  King's  accession.  She  laughingly  told  Mrs. 
Howard  that  she  would  now  take  up  the  "  Hare 
with  many  friends  " — an  allusion  to  one  of  Gay's 
fables — and  she  offered  him  the  post  of  gentleman 
usher  to  the  little  Princess  Louisa,  a  sinecure  with 
a  salary  of  ,£200  a  year,  which  would  be  equiva- 
lent to  ^400  in  the  present  day.  There  was  little 
else  that  the  Queen  could  offer  him  :  the  public 
service  was  now  closed  to  writers,  and  as  Gay  was 
not  in  holy  orders,  he  could  not  be  provided  for  in 
the  Church.  This  appointment,  she  thought,  would 
secure  him  from  want,  and  give  him  leisure  for  his 
pen.  But  Gay,  whose  head  was  quite  turned  by 
the  adulation  of  foolish  women,  not  only  refused  the 
Queen's  offer,  but  resented  it  as  an  insult.  Soon 
after  he  was  taken  up  by  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Queensberry,  who  were  among  his  kindest  friends. 

The  Duchess  of  Queensberry  was  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  graceful  women  of  her  day ;  she 
was  a  daughter  of  Lord  Clarendon,  and  therefore 
cousin  of  the  late  Queen  Anne.  She  was  of  a 
haughty  disposition,  and  considered  herself  quite 
equal,  if  not  superior,  to  the  princes  of  the  House 
of  Hanover.  The  fact  that  Gay  had  been  slighted 
(as  he  considered)  by  Queen  Caroline  was  enough 
to  make  her  champion  his  cause  more  warmly.  Gay 
soon  declared  war  against  the  court  and  the  Govern- 
ment in  his  famous  Beggars  Opera,  which  teemed 
with  topical  allusions  and  covert  political  satire.  The 
character  of  "  Bob  Booty,"  for  instance,  was  under- 
stood to  be  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  and  was  especially 


a  butt  for  ridicule.  The  Beggars  Opera  took  the 
town  by  storm  ;  it  enjoyed  not  only  an  unprece- 
dented run  in  London,  but  was  played  in  all  the 
great  towns  of  England,  Ireland  and  Scotland.  It 
became  a  fashionable  craze  ;  ladies  sang  the  favourite 
songs  and  carried  about  fans  depicting  incidents 
and  characters  in  the  piece  ;  pictures  of  the  actress, 
Miss  Fenton,  who  played  the  leading  part,  were 
sold  by  the  thousand,  and  songs  and  verses  were 
composed  in  her  honour ;  she  became  a  popular 
toast  and  a  reigning  beauty,  and  finally  married  the 
Duke  of  Bolton,  who  ran  away  with  her.  But  the 
Queen  and  Walpole  resented  the  covert  sarcasm  in 
the  play,  and  when  Gay,  encouraged  by  the  success 
of  The  Beggars  Opera,  wrote  a  sequel  called  Polly, 
and  had  it  ready  for  rehearsal,  the  Duke  of  Graf- 
ton,  Lord  Chamberlain,  acting  under  the  orders 
of  the  King,  who  was  instigated  by  the  Queen, 
refused  to  license  the  performance.  It  was  said 
that  Walpole  was  satirized  in  Polly  under  a  thin 
disguise  as  a  highwayman,  but  whatever  the  reason, 
the  prohibition  of  the  play  only  made  it  more 
popular.  If  it  could  not  be  played  it  could  be  read, 
and  every  one  who  had  a  grudge  against  Wal- 
pole, or  the  court,  bought  it  when  it  came  out  in 
book  form.  The  Duchess  of  Marlborough  gave 
,£100  for  a  single  copy,  and  the  Duchess  of  Queens- 
berry  solicited  subscriptions  for  it  within  the  very 
precincts  of  St.  James's,  and  at  a  drawing-room  went 
round  the  room  and  asked  even  the  officers  of  the 
King's  household  to  buy  copies  of  the  play  which 


the  King  had  forbidden  to  be  played.  The  King 
caught  her  in  the  act,  and  asked  what  she  was  doing  ? 
She  replied  :  "What  must  be  agreeable,  I  am  sure, 
to  one  so  humane  as  your  Majesty,  for  I  am  busy 
with  an  act  of  chanty,  and  a  charity  to  which  I  do 
not  despair  of  bringing  your  Majesty  to  contribute  ". 
The  King  guessed  what  the  charity  was,  and  talked 
the  incident  over  with  the  Queen,  who  so  resented 
the  duchess's  action,  which  she  rightly  guessed  was 
aimed  more  particularly  at  herself,  that  the  King's 
vice-chamberlain  was  sent  to  request  her  not  to 
appear  at  court  again.  The  vice-chamberlain's 
message  was  verbal ;  but  the  duchess  immediately 
wrote  a  spirited  reply  : — 

"  The  Duchess  of  Queensberry  is  surprised  and 
well  pleased  that  the  King  hath  given  her  so  agree- 
able a  command  as  to  stay  from  Court,  where  she 
never  came  for  diversion,  but  to  bestow  a  great 
civility  on  the  King  and  Queen  ;  she  hopes  that  by 
such  an  unprecedented  order  as  this  is,  that  the 
King  will  see  as  few  as  he  wishes  at  his  Court, 
particularly  such  as  dare  to  think  or  speak  truth.  I 
dare  not  do  otherwise,  and  ought  not,  nor  could 
have  imagined  that  it  would  not  have  been  the  very 
highest  compliment  that  I  could  possibly  pay  the 
King  to  endeavour  to  support  truth  and  innocence 
in  his  house,  particularly  when  the  King  and  Queen 
both  told  me  that  they  had  not  read  Mr.  Gay's  play. 
I  have  certainly  done  right,  then,  to  stand  by  my 
own  words  rather  than  his  Grace  of  Grafton's,  who 
hath  neither  made  use  of  truth,  judgment,  nor  hon- 


our,  through  this  whole  affair,  either  for  himself  or 
his  friends." 

The  duchess  told  the  vice-chamberlain  to  take 
the  letter  to  the  King  at  once ;  the  vice-chamber- 
lain read  it,  and  thought  it  so  disrespectful  that  he 
begged  her  to  reconsider  the  matter.  Thereupon 
she  sat  down  and  wrote  a  second  letter  which  was  even 
worse,  so  he  took  the  first  after  all.  The  King  was 
beside  himself  with  passion  when  he  received  it,  and 
uttered  the  most  appalling  threats.  But  the  duchess 
went  about  unharmed,  and  laughed  him  to  scorn. 
She  was  glad  to  have  this  opportunity  of  showing 
her  contempt  for  the  "  German  Court,"  as  she  called 
it,  and  her  husband  supported  her  action  by  resign- 
ing his  office  of  Vice-Admiral  of  Scotland.  Poor 
Mrs.  Howard  was  the  only  sufferer,  for  Gay  and 
the  duchess  were  both  her  friends,  and  she  therefore 
got  the  full  brunt  of  the  King's  ill  temper.  Most 
people  took  the  duchess's  part,  thinking  that  the 
court  had  been  impolitic  in  noticing  her  action  on 
behalf  of  Gay,  who  became  for  the  moment  a  popu- 
lar martyr.  "  He  has  got  several  turned  out  of  their 
places,"  wrote  Arbuthnot  to  Swift,  "the  greatest 
ornament  of  the  Court  banished  from  it  for  his  sake, 
and  another  great  lady  (Mrs.  Howard)  in  danger  of 
being  chassde  likewise,  about  seven  or  eight  duchesses 
pushing  forward  like  the  ancient  circumcelliones  in 
the  church  to  see  who  shall  suffer  martyrdom  on 
his  account  first ;  he  is  the  darling  of  the  city."  l 

Gay   certainly   did    not    suffer    from    the    Lord 

1  Dr.  Arbuthnot  to  Swift,  igth  March,  1729. 


Chamberlain's  action,  for  the  subscriptions  to 
Polly  brought  him  in  ,£1,200,  whereas  by  The 
Beggars  Opera,  with  all  its  success,  he  had  only 
gained  ,£400.  Therefore,  as  Dr.  Johnson  says, 
"What  he  called  oppression  ended  in  profit". 

The  Queen's  difference  with  Pope  arose  out  of 
the  political  exigencies  of  the  hour.  Unlike  Swift 
and  Gay  he  expected  nothing  from  her,  and  had 
therefore  no  disappointment.  As  a  Roman  Catholic 
he  was  debarred  from  all  places  of  honour  and  emol- 
ument, though  in  the  reign  of  George  the  First 
Secretary  Craggs  offered  him  a  pension  of  ^300 
a  year,  to  be  paid  from  the  secret  service  money. 
Pope  had  been  a  familiar  figure  at  Leicester  House 
and  Richmond  Lodge.  He  was  a  great  friend  of 
Mrs.  Howard,  and  a  favourite  with  the  maids  of 
honour.  Caroline,  as  Princess  of  Wales,  had  shown 
him  many  courtesies,  and  recognised  his  genius  and 
admired  his  work.  But  Pope's  friendship  with 
Bolingbroke  and  hatred  of  Walpole  necessarily  led 
to  a  breach  between  him  and  the  Queen.  As  Mrs. 
Howard's  influence  waned  and  Walpole's  became 
greater,  Pope  came  no  more  to  court,  and  had 
nothing  for  the  Queen  but  sneers  and  ridicule. 

His  famous  quarrel  with  Lord  Hervey  also  did 
much  to  widen  the  breach,  for  the  Queen  naturally 
took  her  favourite's  side.  A  friend  of  Lord  Hervey 's 
in  the  House  of  Commons  spoke  of  Pope  as  "a 
lampooner  who  scattered  his  ink  without  fear  or 
decency  ".  This  was  true  of  both  combatants,  who 
showed  in  a  most  unamiable  light  in  this  sordid 


quarrel.  The  origin  of  the  feud  is  involved  in  ob- 
scurity, but  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu  was 
undoubtedly  in  part  responsible  for  it. 

Lady  Mary,  since  her  return  from  Constantinople 
in  1718,  had  occupied  a  unique  position  in  society. 
She  was  a  chartered  libertine,  her  conversation  grew 
broader  with  advancing  years,  and  her  wit  had 
more  licence.  Between  her  and  Lord  Hervey  there 
existed  one  of  those  curious  friendships  which  may 
sometimes  be  witnessed  between  an  effeminate  man 
and  a  masculine  woman,  and  there  seems  no  doubt 
that  it  was  of  the  kind  which  is  known  as  "  Platonic," 
for,  after  Lord  Hervey 's  death,  when  his  eldest  son 
sealed  up  and  sent  Lady  Mary  the  letters  she  had 
written  to  his  father,  assuring  her  that  he  had  not 
looked  at  them,  she  wrote  to  say  that  she  almost 
regretted  he  had  not,  as  it  would  have  proved  to 
him  what  most  young  men  disbelieved,  "  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  long  and  steady  friendship  subsisting 
between  two  persons  of  different  sexes  without  the 
least  mixture  of  love  ". 

Lady  Mary  took  a  house  at  Twickenham  not 
far  from  Pope's  beautiful  villa,  and,  though  she  was 
warned  not  to  have  anything  to  do  with  "  the  wicked 
wasp  of  Twickenham,"  she  renewed  her  friendship 
with  the  poet,  and  became  as  intimate  with  him  as 
before.  "  Leave  him  as  soon  as  you  can  "  wrote 
Addison  to  her,  "he  will  certainly  play  you  some 
devilish  trick  else."  But  Lady  Mary  took  no  heed, 
perhaps  the  danger  of  the  experiment  tempted  her, 
and  she  fooled  the  little  poet  to  the  top  of  his  bent. 


Pope,  with  all  his  genius,  had  an  undue  reverence 
for  rank ;  he  was  flattered  by  the  notice  which  this 
clever  woman  extended  to  him,  and  he  genuinely 
admired  her  wit  and  vivacity.  Lady  Mary's  house 
was  the  rendezvous  of  many  of  the  courtiers  and  wits 
of  the  day,  and  here  Pope  often  met  Lord  Hervey. 
Lady  Mary  delighted  in  the  homage  the  poet  gave 
to  her  ungrudgingly ;  it  flattered  her  vanity  that 
such  a  genius  should  be  at  her  feet.  She  wrote  to  him 
effusive  letters,  and  in  one  of  them  declared  that  he 
had  discovered  the  philosopher's  stone,  "since  by 
making  the  Iliad  pass  through  your  poetical  grasp 
into  an  English  form,  without  losing  aught  of  its 
original  beauty,  you  have  drawn  the  golden  current 
from  Patoclus  to  Twickenham ".  Pope  also  wrote 
her  the  most  extravagant  epistles.  In  one,  referring 
to  her  portrait,  which  had  been  painted  by  Sir 
Godfrey  Kneller,  he  says :  "  This  picture  dwells 
really  at  my  heart,  and  I  made  a  perfect  passion  of 
preferring  your  present  face  to  your  past ".  Again 
he  tells  her,  "  I  write  as  if  I  were  drunk ;  the  plea- 
sure I  take  in  thinking  of  your  return  transports 
me  beyond  the  bounds  of  common  decency". 

After  a  time  Lady  Mary  began  to  grow  rather 
weary  of  her  poet,  but  he,  on  the  contrary,  became 
even  more  arduous,  and  was  at  last  led  into  making 
her  a  passionate  declaration  of  love.  She  received  it 
by  laughing  in  his  face.  Pope  was  keenly  sensitive 
to  ridicule,  his  deformity  made  him  more  so  than 
most  men  ;  he  was  of  a  highly  strung  disposition, 
and  Lady  Mary's  outburst  of  hilarity  was  a  thing 


he  could  neither  forget  nor  forgive.  He  withdrew 
deeply  mortified  and  offended.  His  vanity  could  not 
understand  how  the  beautiful  Lady  Mary  could  reject 
him  with  such  disdain  if  another  had  not  stolen  her 
from  him.  He  formed  the  idea  that  Lord  Hervey 
was  his  rival,  and  against  him  therefore  directed  all 
his  malice,  spleen  and  hatred.  A  scurrilous  paper  war 
began.  Lord  Hervey  dabbled  in  poetry,  not  of  great 
merit,  and  Pope  savagely  attacked  it.  Speaking  of 
one  of  his  own  satires,  against  which  he  pretended  a 
charge  of  weakness  had  been  brought,  he  says  :— 

The  lines  are  weak,  another's  pleased  to  say, 
Lord  Fanny  spins  a  thousand  such  a  day. 

And  again  : — 

Like  gentle  Fanny's  was  my  flow'ry  theme 
A  painted  mistress,  or  a  purling  stream. 

Hervey,  who  thought  his  namby-pamby  verses  really 
poetry,  was  stung  to  the  quick  by  this  contemptuous 
allusion,  and,  smarting  under  the  satire,  was  foolish 
enough  to  retaliate  upon  Pope  in  a  poor  effusion 
addressed  "To  the  Imitator  of  the  Satires  of  the 
Second  Book  of  Horace".  It  runs:— 

Thus,  whilst  with  coward  hand  you  stab  a  name, 
And  try  at  least  t'  assassinate  our  fame ; 
Like  the  first  bold  assassin's  be  thy  lot ; 
And  ne'er  be  thy  guilt  forgiven,  or  forgot ; 
But  as  thou  hat'st,  be  hated  by  mankind, 
And  with  the  emblem  of  thy  crooked  mind 
Marked  on  thy  back,  like  Cain,  by  God's  own  hand, 
Wander,  like  him  accursed,  through  the  land. 

In  the  same  poem  Pope  was  told  : — 

None  thy  crabbed  numbers  can  endure 
Hard  as  thy  heart,  and  as  thy  birth  obscure. 


This  brutal  allusion  to  Pope's  physical  infirmities  and 
his  birth  stung  the  most  sensitive  of  poets  to  the 
quick.-  In  this  duel  of  wits,  Hervey  had  chosen 
verse  as  his  weapon,  forgetting  that  in  this  line  his 
adversary  had  no  equal,  and  Pope  seized  the  ad- 
vantage. Hervey  had  set  him  an  unworthy  example, 
which  he  did  not  hesitate  to  follow,  and  he  raked  up 
everything  which  approached  physical  hideousness, 
weakness,  or  deformity  in  the  person  and  mind  of 
his  adversary.  According  to  Lord  Hailes,  "  Lord 
Hervey,  having  felt  some  attacks  of  epilepsy,  entered 
upon  and  persisted  in  a  very  strict  regimen,  and 
thus  stopped  the  progress  and  prevented  the  effects 
of  that  dreadful  disease.  His  daily  food  was  a  small 
quantity  of  ass's  milk  and  a  flour  biscuit.  Once 
a  week  he  indulged  himself  with  eating  an  apple ; 
he  used  emetics  daily.  Lord  Hervey  used  paint  to 
soften  his  ghastly  appearance."  All  these  weaknesses 
were  seized  upon  by  Pope,  and  put  into  a  poem 
wherein  Lord  Hervey  was  satirized  as  "Sporus". 

Let  Sporus  tremble  !  what !  that  thing  of  silk  ! 
Sporus,  that  mere  white  curd  of  ass's  milk  ! 
Satire  or  sense,  alas  !  can  Sporus  feel  ? 
Who  breaks  a  butterfly  upon  a  wheel  ? 
Yet  let  me  flap  this  bug  with  gilded  wings, 
This  painted  child  of  dirt  that  stinks  and  stings; 
Whose  buzz  the  witty  and  the  fair  annoys, 
Yet  wit  ne'er  tastes,  and  beauty  ne'er  enjoys : 
So  well-bred  spaniels  civilly  delight 
In  mumbling  of  the  game  they  dare  not  bite. 
Eternal  smiles  his  emptiness  betray 
As  shallow  streams  run  dimpling  all  the  way 
Whether  in  florid  impotence  he  speaks 
And,  as  the  prompter  breathes,  the  puppet  squeaks ; 
Or,  at  the  ear  of  Eve,  familiar  toad 
VOL.   II.  12 


Half  froth  half  venom,  spits  himself  abroad  : 

In  puns  or  politics,  in  tales  or  lies 

Or  spite,  or  smut,  or  rhymes,  or  blasphemies  ; 

His  wit  all  see-saw  between  that  and  this, 

Now  high,  now  low,  now  master  up,  now  miss, 

And  he  himself  one  vile  antithesis. 

Amphibious  thing  !  that  acting  either  part, 

The  trifling  head,  or  the  corrupted  heart ; 

Fop  at  the  toilet,  flatterer  at  the  Board, 

Now  trips  a  lady  and  now  struts  a  lord. 

Eve's  tempter  thus  the  Rabbins  have  expressed, 

A  cherub's  face  and  reptile  all  the  rest ; 

Beauty  that  shocks  you,  parts  that  none  will  trust, 

Wit  that  can  creep,  and  pride  that  licks  the  dust. 

Coxe,  alluding  to  the  portrait  of  Sporus,  writes  : 
"  I  never  could  read  this  passage  without  disgust 
and  horror,  disgust  at  the  indelicacy  of  the  allusions, 
horror  at  the  malignity  of  the  poet  in  laying  the 
foundation  of  his  abuse  on  the  lowest  species  of 
satire,  personal  invective,  and  what  is  still  worse, 
sickness  and  debility  ".  This  condemnation  is  true 
of  Pope's  verses  on  Hervey,  but  it  is  equally  true 
of  Hervey's  verses  on  Pope — and  it  was  Hervey 
who  began  the  personal  abuse. 

Lady  Mary  did  not  escape  either.  Pope  de- 
picted her  as  a  wanton,  scoffed  at  her  eccentricities, 
and  hinted  that  she  conferred  her  favours  on  "a 
black  man,"  the  Sultan  Ahmed  of  Turkey. 

Pope  also  addressed  a  prose  letter  to  Lord 
Hervey,  which  was,  if  possible,  more  bitter  and 
vindictive  than  his  character  of  "  Sporus".  He 
thought  very  highly  of  his  letter,  which  Wharton 
styles  "a  masterpiece  of  invective".  To  one  of 
his  friends  Pope  wrote  :  "  There  is  woman's  war 



declared  against  me  by  a  certain  lord  ;  his  weapons 
are  the  same  which  women  and  children  use — a  pin 
to  scratch,  and  a  squirt  to  bespatter.  I  writ  a  sort 
of  answer,  but  was  ashamed  to  enter  the  lists  with 
him,  and  after  showing  it  some  people,  suppressed 
it  ;  otherwise  it  was  such  as  was  worthy  of  him  and 
worthy  of  me."  The  reason  Pope  gives  for  sup- 
pressing this  letter,  which  was  not  published  until 
after  his  death,  though  privately  shown  -to  many, 
was  not  the  true  one.  Queen  Caroline  got  hold 
of  a  copy  of  the  epistle,  and  it  was  at  her  express 
desire  that  Pope  withheld  it.  She  feared  lest  it 
should  render  her  favourite  contemptible  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world,  and  though  she  was  greatly  incensed 
against  Pope,  she  dissembled  her  anger,  and  used 
her  influence  to  end  this  wordy  war,  in  which  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  Pope  was  the  victor.1 

But  though  Caroline  was  unfortunate  in  her  rela- 
tions with  Swift,  Gay  and  Pope,  men  whose  writings 
shed  a  lustre  on  her  era,  she  was  the  means  of 
helping  other  writers  who  were  eminent  in  a  different 
way.  Butler,  the  author  of  the  Analogy,  and  Berkeley, 
who  wrote  The  Minute  Philosopher,  she  preferred  to 
high  office  in  the  Church.  For  other  writers  who 
were  not  in  holy  orders  she  did  what  she  could. 
She  befriended  Steele  at  a  time  when,  to  use  his 
own  words,  he  was  "  bereft  both  of  limbs  and 

1  In  his  Memoirs  Lord  Hervey  makes  no  mention  of  his  quarrel 
with  Pope  or  his  duel  with  Pulteney,  and  slips  over  the  years  1730- 
1733  without  a  line  of  comment.  This  seems  to  show  that  he  was 
not  proud  of  either  of  these  achievements. 


speech  'V  She  had  often  befriended  him  before  in 
the  course  of  his  chequered  career.  She  reprieved 
Savage,  the  natural  son  of  that  unnatural  mother  the 
Countess  of  Macclesfield,  when  he  lay  under  sentence 
of  death.  And  after  his  wonderful  poem,  The 
Bastard,  was  written,  she  helped  him  again  with 
a  pension  of  ^50  from  her  privy  purse.  She 
patronised  Somerville,  author  of  The  Chase,  no 
mean  poet  in  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  and  she 
sought  to  support  that  luckless  playwright  William 
Duncombe.  It  was  one  of  her  sayings  that  "genius 
was  superior  to  the  patronage  of  princes,"  but  she 
had  a  great  sympathy  for  literary  endeavour,  how- 
ever humble.  But  her  patronage  of  minor  writers 
was  more  often  dictated  by  the  kindness  of  her  heart 
than  by  the  soundness  of  her  judgment.  An  instance 
of  this  was  afforded  by  her  patronage  of  Stephen 
Duck,  whose  fate  has  been  not  inaptly  compared  to 
that  of  Burns — without  the  genius. 

Stephen  Duck  was  the  son  of  a  peasant  in  Wilt- 
shire, and  worked  as  a  day  labourer  and  thresher 
on  a  farm  at  Charlton.  He  must  have  had  some 
ability  and  a  good  deal  of  application,  for  when  his 
day's  work  was  done,  he  taught  himself  the  rudi- 
ments of  grammar  and  a  smattering  of  history  and 
science.  These  labours  bore  fruit  in  poetry ;  but 
the  poems  remained  unpublished  until  Duck  reached 
the  age  of  thirty,  when  he  had  the  good  fortune 
to  attract  the  notice  of  a  country  clergyman  named 
Spence,  who  not  only  lent  him  books,  but  found 

1  Sir  Richard  Steele  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  May,  1724. 


the  means  for  him  to  print  some  of  his  poems  in 
pamphlet  form,  including  The  Thresher's  Labour,  a 
poem  descriptive  of  his  own  life,  and  The  Shunamite. 
These  poems  found  their  way  into  the  hands  of 
Lord  Tankerville  and  Dr.  Alured  Clarke,  Preben- 
dary of  Winchester,  who  thought  so  highly  of 
their  merits  that  they  got  up  a  subscription  to  aid 
the  author.  Dr.  Alured  Clarke  did  more ;  he 
wrote  to  his  friend  Mrs.  Clayton  telling  her  the 
story  of  Duck's  life,  and  begging  her  to  bring  his 
poems  before  the  notice  of  the  Queen.  By  this 
time  Duck  had  quite  a  little  coterie  of  admirers  in 
his  own  county,  who,  as  Dr.  Alured  Clarke  wrote, 
thought  "  the  thresher,  with  all  his  defects,  a 
superior  genius  to  Mr.  Pope".1 

Caroline  was  much  interested  in  the  fact  that 
these  poems  were  written  by  a  poor  thresher,  and 
when  the  court  was  at  Windsor  she  commanded  that 
Duck  should  be  brought  there.  She  was  so  pleased 
with  his  manner  and  address  that  she  settled  a  small 
annual  pension  on  him,  and  in  1733  made  him  one 
of  the  yeomen  of  the  guard.  Dr.  Alured  Clarke, 
by  this  time  one  of  the  royal  chaplains,  and  Mrs. 
Clayton  acted  as  the  sponsors  of  the  poet,  whose 
work  now  became  well-known.  The  most  extra- 
vagant ideas  were  formed  concerning  it,  some 
considering  The  Thresher  s  Labour  superior  to 
Thomson's  Seasons,  and  others  declaring  that  the 
author  of  The  Shunamite  was  the  greatest  poet  of 

1  Dr.  Alured  Clarke  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  Winchester,  i8th  August, 


the  age.  Thus  encouraged,  Duck  wrote  more 
poems,  and  the  Queen's  patronage  secured  for 
them  a  large  sale.  Naturally  many  were  in  praise 
of  his  generous  benefactress.  Duck  in  due  time 
took  holy  orders,  to  which  he  had  always  a  leaning 
—he  was  ordained,  as  a  literate,  by  the  Bishop  of 
Salisbury.  Shortly  after  his  ordination,  the  Queen 
appointed  him  keeper  of  Merlin's  Cave,  a  fanciful 
building  she  had  erected  at  Richmond.  Both 
Merlin's  Cave  and  Duck  came  in  for  a  great  deal 
of  satire  from  "  the  epigrammatic  Maecenases,"  as  Dr. 
Alured  Clarke  calls  them,  who  regarded  both  the  cave 
and  the  patronage  of  the  poet  as  proofs  of  the  Queen's 
folly  rather  than  her  wisdom.  Pope  wrote  : — 

Lord !  how  we  strut  through  Merlin's  Cave,  to  see 
No  poets  there,  but  Stephen,  you  and  me. 

Swift,  writhing  under  neglect,  penned  a  very  caustic 
epigram  : — 

The  thresher  Duck  could  o'er  the  Queen  prevail : 
The  proverb  says,  "  No  fence  against  a  flail," 
From  threshing  corn  he  turns  to  thresh  his  brains 
For  which  her  Majesty  allows  him  grains, 
Though  'tis  confessed  that  those  who  ever  saw 
His  poems,  think  them  all  not  worth  a  straw. 
Thrice  happy  Duck!  employed  in  threshing  stubble 
Thy  toils  were  lessen'd  and  thy  profits  doubled. 

Close  by  Merlin's  Cave  the  Queen  raised  another 
quaint  conceit  known  as  the  "  Hermitage,"  in  which 
she  placed  busts  of  Adam  Clarke,  Newton,  Locke 
and  other  dead  philosophers.  These  busts  excited 
the  ire  of  living  worthies.  Swift  in  his  Elegant 
Extracts  wrote  : — 


Lewis,  the  living  genius  fed 
And  rais'd  the  scientific  head  : 
Our  Queen,  more  frugal  of  her  meat, 
Raises  those  heads  that  cannot  eat. 

This  drew  forth  the  following  repartee,  addressed 
to  Swift : — 

Since  Anna,  whom  bounty  thy  merits  had  fed, 
Ere  her  own  was  laid  low,  had  exalted  your  head, 
And  since  our  good  Queen  to  the  wise  is  so  just, 
To  raise  heads  from  such  as  are  humbled  in  dust, 
I  wonder,  good  man,  that  you  are  not  envaulted ; 
Pr'y  thee,  go  and  be  dead,  and  be  doubly  exalted. 

Whereto  the  dean  wittily  replied  : — 

Her  Majesty  never  shall  be  my  exalter ; 

And  yet  she  would  raise  me  I  know,  by — a  halter. 

Stephen  Duck's  poetry  was  popular  in  its 
day,  but  it  owed  its  popularity  to  the  favour  of 
the  Queen  rather  than  to  its  intrinsic  merit.  His 
talent  was  not  sufficient  to  overcome  the  defects  of 
his  early  education.  Duck  realised  this  far  more 
than  his  friends,  and  he  was  keenly  sensitive  to  the 
satire  which  great  writers  like  Swift  and  Pope 
thought  it  worth  their  while  to  pour  upon  him.  The 
Queen  remained  his  constant  friend,  and  preferred 
him  successively  to  a  chaplaincy  at  Kew  and  the 
rectory  of  Byfleet  in  Surrey.  But  Duck  was  not 
a  happy  man  ;  his  education  began  too  late  in  life, 
and  he  could  never  accommodate  himself  to  his 
altered  circumstances.  He  ended  his  career  by 
committing  suicide,  a  few  years  after  the  death  of 
his  royal  patroness. 

1 84 



IN  May,  1732,  the  King  made  his  second  visit  to 
Hanover,  and  was  absent  from  England  four  months. 
He  invested  the  Queen  with  full  powers  of  Queen- 
Regent  as  before.  George  the  Second's  visit  to 
Hanover  was  again  exceedingly  unpopular  with  the 
nation,  but  he  was  determined  to  go,  and  it  was 
useless  to  thwart  him.  This,  Caroline's  second 
regency,  was  uneventful,  though  in  it  she  managed 
to  do  something  to  advance  the  cause  of  prison 
reform.  Knowing  the  injustices  and  anomalies  of 
the  criminal  law,  the  Queen's  influence  was  all  on 
the  side  of  mercy.  She  showed  a  particular  distaste 
to  signing  death  warrants  in  her  capacity  as  Regent, 
and  whenever  she  could  possibly  do  so  she  pardoned 
the  criminals.  For  instance,  we  read  :  "  On  Tues- 
day the  report  of  the  four  criminals  who  received 
sentence  of  death  at  the  late  Sessions  at  the  Old 
Bailey  was  made  to  her  Majesty  in  Council  by  Mr. 
Sergeant  Raby,  and  her  Majesty  was  graciously 
pleased  to  show  mercy  and  pardon  them  ".  In  the 
reform  of  the  prison  system  the  Queen  took  a  direct 


interest.  She  was  always  anxious,  when  it  was  in 
her  power,  to  release  prisoners,  and  to  make  penal- 
ties easier  for  debtors  and  other  offenders,1  and  she 
was  determined  that  something  should  be  done 
to  remedy  the  deplorable  condition  of  the  public 
prisons.'2  She  had  taken  up  this  question  the  year 
after  the  King's  accession  to  the  throne,  and  during 
her  regency  an  inquiry  was  instituted,  which  laid 
bare  a  frightful  system  of  abuses ;  gaolers  and 
warders  connived  at  the  escape  of  rich  prisoners, 
and  subjected  poor  ones,  who  could  not  pay  their 
extortionate  demands,  to  every  sort  of  cruelty,  insult 
and  oppression. 

The  reports  of  the  Select  Committees  of  the 
House  of  Commons  teem  with  such  cases.  One 
report  stated  that  "The  Committee  saw  in  the 
women's  sick  ward  many  miserable  objects  lying, 
without  beds,  on  the  floor,  perishing  with  extreme 
want ;  and  in  the  men's  sick  ward  yet  much  worse. 
.  .  .  On  the  giving  of  food  to  these  poor  wretches 

1  Last  Friday  her  Majesty  was  most  graciously  pleased  to  ex- 
tend her  mercy  to  William  Bales,  under  order  for  transportation  for 
fourteen  years,  who  sometime  since  was  condemned  on  the  Black 
Act. — Daily  Gazetteer,  26th  July,  1736. 

Her  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to  pardon  the  three  following  con- 
demned to  transportation  for  fourteen  years — viz.,  Thomas  Ricketts, 
for  stealing  a  silver  hilted  sword,  and  Thomas  Morris  and  John 
Pritchard,  for  housebreaking. — Daily  Gazetteer,  yth  August,  1736. 

The  day  before  the  Court  removed  from  Windsor  to  Richmond 
her  Majesty  gave  £80  for  discharging  poor  debtors  confined  in  the 
town  jail. — Daily  Post,  igth  October,  1730. 

2  Petitions  have  lately  been  presented  to  her  Majesty  from  in- 
solvent debtors  confined  in  the  prisons  of  this  city,  the  numbers  of 
whom  are  so  great  that  several  have  died  lately  of  the  prison  dis- 
temper, and  others  through  want. — Craftsman,  i8th  May,  1728. 


(though  it  was  done  with  the  utmost  caution, 
they  being  only  allowed  at  first  the  smallest  quanti- 
ties, and  that  of  liquid  nourishment)  one  died ; 
the  vessels  of  his  stomach  were  so  disordered  and 
contracted,  for  want  of  use,  that  they  were  totally 
incapable  of  performing  their  office,  and  the  un- 
happy creature  perished  about  the  time  of  digestion. 
Upon  his  body  a  coroner's  inquest  sat  (a  thing 
which,  though  required  by  law  to  be  always  done, 
hath  for  many  years  been  scandalously  omitted  in 
this  gaol),  and  the  jury  found  that  he  died  of  want. 
Those  who  were  not  so  far  gone,  on  proper  nourish- 
ment being  given  them,  recovered,  so  that  not  above 
nine  have  died  since  the  25th  March  last,  the  day 
the  Committee  first  met  there,  though,  before,  a 
day  seldom  passed  without  a  death  ;  and  upon  the 
advancing  of  the  spring  not  less  than  eight  or  ten 
usually  died  every  twenty-four  hours." l  The  prison 
referred  to  was  a  London  prison,  but  in  the  pro- 
vinces matters  were  no  better.  There  was,  for  ex- 
ample, a  petition  to  the  House  of  Commons,  1725, 
from  insolvent  debtors  in  Liverpool  gaol,  stating 
that  they  were  "  reduced  to  a  starving  condition, 
having  only  straw  and  water  at  the  courtesy  of  the 
sergeant  ".2  The  Queen  was  horrified  and  indignant 
at  these  revelations,  and  she  repeatedly  urged  on 
Walpole  the  reformation  of  the  prison  system,  and 
the  revision  of  the  criminal  code.  But  Walpole  was 

1  Second  Report  of  the  Select  Committee,  presented  I4th  M  ay 

2  Commons'  Journals,  vol.  xx. 


averse  to  any  legislation  unless  it  was  demanded 
by  political  exigencies,  and  the  utmost  the  Queen 
achieved  was  a  more  vigorous  inspection  of  prisons 
and  the  punishment  of  gaolers  detected  in  cruelty. 

In  September  the  King  returned  from  Hanover 
and  took  over  the  reins  of  government,  an  easy  task, 
for  Walpole  and  the  Queen  had  managed  so  well 
that  this  was  a  period  of  peace  abroad  and  prosperity 
at  home. 

Walpole  was  now  at  the  zenith  of  his  power ; 
in  the  country  everything  was  quiet,  in  the  Cabinet 
all  his  colleagues  were  submissive.  He  enjoyed  the 
fullest  confidence  of  the  King  and  Queen,  and  he 
had  apparently  complete  ascendency  in  both  Houses 
of  Parliament.  The  Opposition,  though  able  and 
active,  both  in  Parliament  and  out  of  it,  were  unable 
to  lessen  the  Ministerial  majority.  "  What  can  you 
have  done,  sir,  to  God  Almighty  to  make  him 
so  much  your  friend  ? "  exclaimed  an  old  Scottish 
Secretary  of  State  at  this  time  to  Walpole.  The 
Prime  Minister's  ascendency  might  have  continued 
serenely  had  he  not  the  following  year  (1733)  been 
so  unwise  as  to  depart  from  his  policy  of  letting 
sleeping  dogs  lie.  He  brought  forward  his  celebrated 
excise  scheme.  To  explain  it  briefly,  Walpole  pro- 
posed to  bring  the  tobacco  and  wine  duties  under  the 
law  of  excise,  and  so  ease  the  land  tax.  This  land 
tax,  ever  since  the  Revolution  of  1688,  had  borne 
the  great  burden  of  taxation,  and  during  the  wars  of 
Marlborough  had  risen  to  as  much  as  four  shillings 
in  the  pound.  In  consequence  of  the  peace  and 


prosperity  enjoyed  by  the  nation  the  last  few  years 
it  has  been  reduced  to  two  shillings  in  the  pound, 
and  Walpole's  proposed  changes  would  have  the 
effect  of  further  reducing  it  or  abolishing  it  altogether. 
Walpole  hoped  by  this  means  to  conciliate  the  land- 
owners and  country  gentlemen,  who  considered  that 
they  had  to  bear  an  unfair  share  of  the  burdens  of 
the  State.  Customs  had  always  been  levied  on 
wine  and  tobacco,  and  the  change  proposed  had 
regard  chiefly  to  the  method  of  collection.  An 
active  system  of  smuggling  was  carried  on,  and 
connived  in  and  winked  at  by  many  people,  so 
that  the  duties  on  wine  and  tobacco  fell  very  far 
short  of  the  estimates.  Under  Walpole's  scheme  this 
system  of  wholesale  smuggling  would  be  to  a  great 
extent  stopped,  and  he  estimated  that  the  excise 
duties  would  rise  by  one-sixth,  which  would  be 
more  than  sufficient  to  meet  the  deficit  caused  by 
easing  the  land  tax.  He  had  the  hearty  support 
of  the  court,  for  the  King's  Civil  List  depended  to 
some  extent  on  the  duties  on  tobacco  and  wine, 
and  if  they  were  increased,  the  royal  income  would 
increase  also. 

Walpole  at  first  was  confident  that  he  would 
be  able  to  carry  this  scheme  through  without 
much  opposition,  but  as  soon  as  its  purport  be- 
came known,  even  before  it  was  introduced  into 
Parliament,  it  was  evident  that  the  Prime  Minister 
had  seriously  miscalculated  public  opinion.  Both 
in  and  out  of  Parliament  the  opposition  to  any 
extension  of  the  excise  was  tremendous  ;  the 


whole  nation  rose  against  it.  The  people  per- 
sisted in  regarding  the  proposed  extension  as  the 
first  step  in  a  scheme  of  general  excise,  in  which 
every  necessary  of  life  would  be  taxed,  and  the 
liberties  of  the  subject  interfered  with  by  excise 
officers  coming  into  private  houses  whenever  they 
pleased.  It  was  in  vain  for  Wai  pole  to  vow  that 
"no  such  scheme  had  ever  entered  his  head";  it 
was  in  vain  to  reason  or  expostulate.  Popular 
indignation  burned  to  a  white  heat,  and  there  were 
plenty  of  able  men  ready  to  fan  the  flame.  The 
Craftsman  declared  that  the  Prime  Minister's 
scheme  would  ruin  trade,  destroy  the  liberties  of 
the  people,  abrogate  Magna  Charta,  and  make  the 
Crown  absolute.  The  Jacobites  and  the  Tories, 
though  largely  drawn  from  the  landed  classes  who 
were  to  be  benefited  by  this  scheme,  rejected  with 
contumely  the  proffered  "  bribe  "  as  they  called  it. 
Not  only  every  Jacobite  and  every  Tory,  but  all  the 
discontented  Whigs,  all  the  politicians  who  had 
wished  for  office  and  had  not  obtained  it,  all  the 
peers  and  members  of  Parliament  whom  Walpole  at 
different  times  had  insulted  and  aggrieved,  precipi- 
tated themselves  on  this  opportunity  of  attacking  him. 
The  Prime  Minister  was  also  betrayed  in  the 
house  of  his  friends  ;  there  were  several  great 
peers  holding  minor  offices  under  the  Crown  who 
were  secretly  hostile  to  Walpole,  though  they  had 
hitherto  masked  their  animosity.  They  now  seized 
this  opportunity  to  undermine  him.  Among  them 
were  the  Dukes  of  Argyll,  Montrose,  and  Bolton, 


the  Earls  of  Stair  and  Marchmont,  and  Lords 
Chesterfield  and  Clinton.  These  malcontents  held 
a  secret  meeting,  and  determined  to  send  Lord 
Stair  to  the  Queen,  to  set  forth  to  her  the  unpopu- 
larity of  the  excise  scheme,  and  the  danger  which 
the  Crown  ran  in  supporting  it.  Lord  Stair  had 
fought  in  Marlborough's  campaign,  and  for  many 
years  had  served  his  country  with  great  credit  as 
ambassador  to  France.  Walpole  had  treated  him 
shabbily  in  recalling  him  from  Paris  when  he  came 
into  collision  with  Law,  the  financier,  and  for  a  long 
time  there  had  been  a  great  deal  of  ill-feeling. 
When  the  Duke  of  Queensberry  resigned,  Walpole 
sought  to  make  amends  by  giving  the  ex-ambassador 
the  post  of  Vice- Admiral  of  Scotland  ;  this  post  Lord 
Stair  still  held,  but  he  had  not  forgotten  his  resent- 
ment against  Walpole. 

The  Queen  gave  Lord  Stair  an  audience  one 
evening  in  her  cabinet  in  Kensington  Palace.  He 
burst  forth  into  violent  invective  against  the  Prime 
Minister,  saying  :  "  But,  madam,  though  your 
Majesty  knows  nothing  of  this  man  but  what  he 
tells  you  himself,  or  what  his  creatures  and  flatterers, 
prompted  by  himself,  tell  you  of  him,  yet  give  me 
leave  to  assure  your  Majesty  that  in  no  age,  in  no 
reign,  in  no  country,  was  ever  any  Minister  so 
universally  odious  as  the  man  you  support.  .  .  . 
That  he  absolutely  governs  your  Majesty  nobody 
doubts,  and  very  few  scruple  to  say  ;  they  own  you 
have  the  appearance  of  power,  and  say  you  are 
contented  with  the  appearance,  whilst  all  the  reality 


of  power  is  his,  derived  from  the  King,  conveyed 
through  you,  and  vested  in  him." 

He  then  referred  to  a  personal  grievance  he  had 
against  Walpole,  in  that  Lord  Isla,  brother  of  the 
Duke  of  Argyll,  had  been  preferred  before  him,  and 
given  important  appointments  which  he  (Lord  Stair) 
ought  to  have  filled.  He  quoted  this  as  a  proof  of 
Walpole's  power  over  the  Queen,  and  said :  "  For 
what  cannot  that  man  persuade  you  to,  who  can 
make  you,  madam,  love  a  Campbell  ?  The  only 
two  men  in  this  country  who  ever  vainly  hoped  or 
dared  to  attempt  to  set  a  mistress's"  (Mrs.  Howard's) 
"  power  up  in  opposition  to  yours  were  Lord  Isla  and 
his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Argyll  ;  yet  one  of  the 
men  who  strove  to  dislodge  you  by  this  method 
from  the  King's  bosom  is  the  man  your  favourite 
has  thought  fit  to  place  the  nearest  to  his."  This, 
however,  was  a  little  too  much  for  the  Queen,  who 
was  extremely  sensitive  of  any  mention  of  the 
peculiar  relations  which  existed  between  Mrs. 
Howard  and  the  King.  She  sharply  rebuked  Lord 
Stair,  and  desired  him  to  remember  that  "he  was 
speaking  of  the  King's  servant,  and  to  the  King's 
wife  ".  Lord  Stair  therefore  said  no  more  on  that 
point,  but  proceeded  forthwith  to  the  excise  scheme, 
declaring  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  force  the 
measure  through  the  Lords,  though  corruption 
might  carry  it  through  the  Commons.  He  added 
that  even  if  it  were  possible  to  carry  it  into  law, 
"yet,  madam,  I  think  it  so  wicked,  so  dishonest, 
so  slavish  a  scheme,  that  my  conscience  would  no 


more  permit  me  to  vote  for  it  than  his  "  ( Walpole's) 
"  ought  to  have  permitted  him  to  project  it ".  The 
Queen  again  interrupted  him  by  crying  out :  "  Oh, 
my  lord,  don't  talk  to  me  of  your  conscience  ;  you 
make  me  faint !  "  This  so  nettled  Lord  Stair  that 
he  spoke  plainer  than  ever. 

When  he  had  quite  talked  himself  out,  it  was 
the  Queen's  turn  to  let  Lord  Stair  know  her  mind, 
which  she  did  with  a  vigour  and  directness  that  left 
nothing  to  be  desired. 

"You  have  made  so  very  free  with  me  person- 
ally in  this  conference,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "that  I 
hope  you  will  think  I  am  entitled  to  speak  my  mind 
with  very  little  reserve  to  you ;  and  believe  me, 
my  lord,  I  am  no  more  to  be  imposed  upon  by 
your  professions  than  I  am  to  be  terrified  by  your 
threats."  She  then  reminded  Lord  Stair  of  the 
part  he  had  played  in  supporting  the  Peerage  Bill 
in  the  last  reign,  which,  she  held,  was  against  the 
interests  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  liberties 
of  the  people,  and  went  on  to  say  :  "  To  talk  there- 
fore in  the  patriot  strain  you  have  done  to  me  on 
this  occasion  can  move  me,  my  lord,  to  nothing  but 
laughter.  Where  you  get  your  lesson  I  do  not  want 
to  know.  Your  system  of  politics  you  collect  from 
the  Craftsman,  your  sentiments,  or  rather  your  pro- 
fessions, from  my  Lord  Bolingbroke  and  my  Lord 
Carteret — whom  you  may  tell,  if  you  think  fit,  that 
I  have  long  known  them  to  be  two  as  worthless  men  of 
parts  as  any  in  this  country,  and  whom  I  have  not 
only  been  often  told  are  two  of  the  greatest  liars  and 


knaves  in  any  country,  but  whom  my  own  observation 
and  experience  have  found  so."1 

All  this  the  Queen  said,  and  much  more  to  the 
same  effect,  which  convinced  Lord  Stair  that  she 
would  do  nothing  against  Walpole,  so  he  took  his 
leave  saying  :  "  Madam,  you  are  deceived,  and  the 
King  is  betrayed  ".  He  went  back  to  the  malcon- 
tent peers  to  tell  them  of  the  interview,  from  which 
he  was  fain  to  confess  he  had  no  results  to  show  ; 
but  he  boasted  that  he  had  at  least  told  the  Queen 
some  home  truths  which  she  would  not  be  likely  to 

Finding  that  Walpole  was  determined,  despite 
remonstrance,  to  introduce  his  excise  scheme,  and 
was  supported  by  the  King  and  Queen,  the  Opposi- 
tion organised  a  popular  agitation  against  it.  The 
whole  country  was  flooded  with  pamphlets,  and 
meetings  were  everywhere  held.  Disaffection  to 
the  Government  ran  like  wildfire  throughout  the 
land,  and  from  all  parts  of  the  kingdom  the  cry 
was  :  "  No  slavery,  no  excise,  no  wooden  shoes" — 
this  last  was  aimed  at  the  German  tendencies  of  the 
court.  Public  agitation  rose  to  a  greater  height 
than  it  had  done  since  the  Jacobite  rising  of  1715. 
The  city  of  London  and  nearly  every  borough  in 
England  held  meetings  to  protest  against  the  scheme, 
and  passed  resolutions  commanding  their  represen- 
tatives to  oppose  any  extension  of  the  excise  in 
any  form  whatever.  The  agitation  went  on  for 
months,  increasing  in  volume  and  in  violence,  though 

1  Hervey's  Memoirs. 
VOL.   II.  13 


the  scheme  was  yet  in  embryo,  and  the  measure  had 
not  been  laid  before  Parliament.  The  more  timid 
among  Walpole's  supporters  took  alarm  and  urged 
him  to  abandon  the  contemplated  measure.  But 
the  Prime  Minister,  who  during  these  years  of  almost 
absolute  power  had  become  a  dictator,  refused  to 
listen.  He  paid  little  heed  to  the  press,  and  declared 
that  the  whole  agitation  was  a  got-up  job.  If  he 
yielded  to  clamour  in  this  matter  he  would  have  to 
do  so  in  others  and  would  be  left,  he  said,  with  only 
the  shadow  of  power. 

Walpole  introduced  his  Excise  Bill  into  Parlia- 
ment on  March  i4th,  1733,  in  a  speech  conspicuous 
for  its  moderation.  He  stoutly  denied  the  report  that 
he  intended  to  propose  a  general  excise.  He  sketched 
the  details  of  his  measure  as  one  which  affected  solely 
the  duties  on  tobacco  and  wine  and  sought  to  put 
down  smuggling.  "  And  this,"  he  wound  up,  "  is  the 
scheme  which  has  been  represented  in  so  dreadful 
and  terrible  a  light  —  this  the  monster  which  was 
to  devour  the  people  and  commit  such  ravages  over 
the  whole  nation."  The  Prime  Minister's  eloquence 
was  of  no  avail ;  his  denials  were  not  believed,  his 
moderation  was  regarded  as  a  sign  of  weakness. 
The  Opposition  rose  in  their  wrath  and  denounced 
the  measure  root  and  branch.  Pulteney  mocked, 
Barnard  thundered,  Wyndham  stigmatised  excises 
of  every  kind  as  "  badges  of  slavery ".  And  the 
cheers  which  greeted  these  denunciations  within  the 
House  were  caught  up  by  the  multitude  outside. 
The  doors  of  Westminster  were  besieged  by  frenzied 

From  the  Pointing  in  the  Xiitioiuil  I'ortrait  Gallery. 


crowds    hostile   to    the   excise  who  cheered  every 
member  of   Parliament   opposed   to   the    Bill,   and 
hooted  and  yelled  at  every  one  who  favoured  it.     To 
these    Walpole    incautiously   alluded   in    his  reply, 
"Gentlemen  may  give  them  what  name  they  think 
fit ;    it  may  be  said   they   come   hither  as  humble 
supplicants,  but  I  know  whom  the  law  calls  sturdy 
beggars".     The  Opposition  seized  on  this  unlucky 
phrase  as  showing  the  arrogant  Minister's  indiffer- 
ence to  the  poverty  of  the  people,  and  his  desire  to 
deny  their  right  of  petition.     Through  the  rest  of 
his  political  career  Walpole  never  heard  the  last  of 
the  "sturdy  beggars".     The  expression  so  exasper- 
ated  the   mob    that   the   same    night,    when,   after 
thirteen    hours'   debate,   Walpole  was   leaving   the 
House,  some  of  the  "sturdy  beggars"  made  a  rush 
at  him  and  would  have  torn  him  to  pieces  had  not 
his  friends  interposed  and  carried  him  off  in  safety. 
The  King  and  Queen  were  intensely  interested  in 
the  progress  of  the  measure.    Indeed  it  was  said  that 
if  their  being  sent  back  to  Hanover  had  depended 
on  the  fate  of  this  Bill  they  could  not  have  been 
more  excited.     Walpole's  friends  fell  off  one  by  one, 
and  new  enemies  declared  themselves  every  day. 
Yet  still  the  King  and  Queen  stood  by  their  favourite 
Minister  undismayed.    Violent  personal  attacks  were 
made  upon  Walpole  during  the  debate,  to  which  the 
Prime    Minister   vigorously    retorted.       The    King 
delighted  to  hear  of  these  retorts,  and  would  rap 
out  vehement   oaths  and   cry  with  flushed  cheeks 
and  tears  in  his  eyes :    "  He  is  a  brave  fellow  ;  he 


has  more  spirit  than  any  man  I  ever  knew".     The 
Queen  would  join  in  these  acclamations. 

Thus  matters  went  on  for  nearly  a  month,  things 
going  from  bad  to  worse,  majorities  in  Parliament 
getting  smaller  and  smaller,  supporters  falling  off 
one  by  one,  and  the  popular  ferment  growing 
higher  and  higher.  Petitions  against  the  Bill  poured 
in  from  all  the  large  towns,  that  of  the  Common 
Council  of  London  being  the  most  violent  of  all. 
And  the  paper  war  raged  unceasingly.  "  The 
public,"  says  Tindal,  "  was  so  heated  with  papers 
and  pamphlets  that  matters  rose  next  to  a  re- 
bellion." l  But  despite  dwindling  majorities  and 
popular  clamour,  Walpole  remained  stubborn.  At 
last,  when  the  storm  was  at  its  worst,  it  was  the 
Queen  who  saw  the  hopelessness  of  contending 
against  it.  In  despair  she  asked  Lord  Scarborough, 
who  had  always  been  a  personal  friend  of  the  King 
and  herself,  and  who  now  threatened  to  resign  his 
office,  what  was  to  be  done.  He  replied  :  "  The  Bill 
must  be  dropped,  or  there  will  be  mutiny  in  the 
army.  I  will  answer  for  my  regiment,"  he  added, 
"  against  the  Pretender,  but  not  against  the  ex- 
cise." Tears  came  into  the  Queen's  eyes.  "Then," 
said  she,  "  we  must  drop  it."  2 

The  resolution  was  arrived  at  none  too  soon. 
On  April  Qth,  after  a  furious  debate  in  the  House, 
Walpole  went  to  St.  James's  and  had  a  conference 
with  the  King  and  Queen.  It  was  then  agreed  to 
drop  the  Bill,  though  it  was  resolved  not  to  make 

1  TindaVs  History.  2  Maby's  Life  of  Chesterfield. 


the  intention  known  for  a  day  or  two  longer.  Wai- 
pole  then  had  a  private  interview  with  the  Queen, 
and  offered  to  resign.  It  was  necessary,  he  said, 
that  some  one  should  be  sacrificed  to  appease  the 
fury  of  the  populace,  and  it  was  better  that  he  should 
be  the  one.  The  Queen  knew  well  what  he  meant, 
for  she  had  so  identified  herself  with  Walpole's 
policy  that  half  the  attacks  of  the  Opposition  on  the 
Prime  Minister  were  really  veiled  attacks  upon  her. 
But  she  refused  to  listen  to  such  a  suggestion  and 
upbraided  Walpole  for  having  thought  her  "so  mean, 
so  cowardly,  so  ungrateful,"  as  to  accept  of  such  an 
offer,  and  she  assured  him  that  as  long  as  she  lived  she 
would  not  abandon  him.  Walpole  then  made  a  simi- 
lar proposition  to  the  King,  but  George  the  Second 
replied  in  much  the  same  words  as  the  Queen 
had  done.  Both  the  King  and  Queen  were  greatly 
distressed  at  the  turn  events  had  taken.  The  Queen 
wept  bitterly,  but  put  a  bright  face  on  the  matter  in 
public,  and  held  her  evening  drawing-room  as  usual. 
She  was,  however,  so  anxious,  that  she  was  forced 
to  pretend  a  headache  and  the  vapours,  and  break 
up  the  circle  earlier  than  usual. 

The  next  day,  April  loth,  was  the  crucial  day. 
The  City  of  London,  headed  by  the  Lord  Mayor 
in  full  state,  petitioned  Parliament  against  the  Bill, 
and  the  citizens  attended  in  such  numbers  that 
the  string  of  coaches  ran  from  Westminster  all  the 
way  to  Temple  Bar.  When  the  division  was  taken 
that  night,  it  was  found  that  the  Government  had  a 
majority  of  only  sixteen  votes,  which  was  a  virtual 


defeat.  The  Opposition  were  wildly  excited  over 
their  victory,  which  they  confidently  hoped  would 
involve  Wai  pole's  fall  and  disgrace.  Lord  Hervey, 
who  had  been  sent  down  to  the  House  to  report  pro- 
gress, hastened  back  to  the  King  and  Queen  to  tell 
them  the  bad  news.  The  tears  ran  down  the  Queen's 
cheeks,  and  for  some  time  she  could  not  speak. 
The  King  cross-questioned  Hervey  as  to  who  were 
the  members  who  had  seceded  from  the  Govern- 
ment ranks  and  helped  to  swell  the  Opposition 
figures,  and  as  he  heard  the  names,  he  commented 
on  them  one  by  one  in  expressions  such  as  :  "A 
fool!"  "An  Irish  blockhead!"  "A  booby!"  "A 
whimsical  fellow ! "  and  so  forth.  But  though  the 
King  might  swear  and  the  Queen  might  weep,  it 
was  clear  that  the  game  was  up,  and  the  sooner  they 
acted  upon  their  intention  of  abandoning  the  Bill 
the  better. 

Walpole,  too,  fully  realised  this  at  last,  and 
the  howls  of  public  execration  that  pursued  him 
might  well  have  daunted  even  his  stout  heart.  If 
there  is  any  truth  in  Frederick  the  Great's  story,  it 
was  on  this  eventful  night  that  Walpole  escaped 
from  the  infuriated  crowd  around  Westminster 
disguised  under  an  old  red  cloak,  and  shouting 
"  Liberty,  liberty ;  no  excise  !  "  and  made  his  way 
to  St.  James's  to  acquaint  the  King  and  Queen  of 
the  result  of  the  division.  He  found  the  King  armed 
at  all  points ;  he  had  donned  the  hat  he  wore  at 
Malplaquet  and  was  trying  the  temper  of  the  sword 
he  had  fought  with  at  Oudenarde.  He  was  ready  to 


put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  guards  and  march 
out  upon  his  rebellious  and  mutinous  subjects.  But 
Walpole  besought  him  to  be  calm  and  vowed  it  was 
a  "choice  between  abandoning  the  Excise  Bill  or 
losing  the  crown ".  But  this  story  is  probably 
apocryphal.  What  is  certain  is  that  Walpole,  the 
evening  of  the  division,  had  a  small  gathering  of  his 
staunchest  supporters  at  his  house  in  Arlington 
Street.  After  supper  he  got  up  and  said  :  "  Gentle- 
men, this  dance  it  will  no  further  go";  and  announced 
his  intention  of  sounding  a  retreat  on  the  morrow,  no 
doubt  to  their  relief. 

On  the  morrow,  April  nth,  the  House  of 
Commons  was  crowded  from  end  to  end,  and  the 
people  thronged  not  only  the  approaches  to  West- 
minster, but  forced  their  way  into  the  lobby.  Wal- 
pole got  up  in  the  House  and  announced  his 
intention  of  postponing  the  measure  for  two  months. 
This,  though  a  virtual  confession  of  defeat,  was  not 
enough  for  the  Opposition,  who  made  a  great  uproar, 
and  the  chamber  resounded  with  hissings,  howlings 
and  shouts,  which  were  taken  up  by  the  mob  outside, 
and  the  threatening  murmurs  of  the  multitude  could 
be  distinctly  heard  within  the  House  itself,  rising 
and  falling  like  the  surge  of  the  sea.  So  violent 
and  threatening  was  the  mob  that  at  the  close  of 
the  debate  it  was  suggested  to  Walpole  that  he 
should  make  good  his  escape  from  the  House  by 
the  back  way.  But  the  Prime  Minister  said  he  would 
not  shrink  from  danger,  and,  surrounded  by  a  body 
of  chosen  supporters,  he  made  his  way  through  a 


lane  of  constables.  In  the  lobby  there  was  great 
jostling  and  hustling,  and  many  blows  were  struck. 
Several  of  Walpole's  supporters  were  struck  and 
wounded,  but  the  Minister  himself  managed  to  get 
through  unhurt,  found  his  coach  and  got  safely 

The  scenes  in  the  streets  of  London  that  night 
were  unparalleled  ;  the  whole  city  seemed  to  be  on 
foot ;  the  guards  were  called  out  and  put  under 
arms ;  magistrates  were  ready  to  read  the  Riot 
Act ;  and  bodies  of  constables  were  drafted  in  all 
directions.  Had  the  Bill  not  been  dropped  it  is 
certain  that  a  fearful  riot  would  have  broken  out, 
and  London  might  have  presented  scenes  almost 
parallel  to  those  witnessed  in  Paris  nearly  a  century 
later.  But  since  the  excise  was  abandoned  the 
excitement  of  the  populace  found  vent  in  jubilations. 
The  Monument  was  illuminated,  bonfires  were 
lighted  in  the  streets  (and  within  a  day  or  two,  as 
the  news  travelled,  in  every  town  in  England),  nearly 
all  the  houses  were  lighted  up,  and  at  Charing  Cross 
Walpole  and  a  fat  woman,  representing  the  Queen, 
were  burnt  in  effigy,  amid  the  howls  and  shrieks  of 
the  multitude. 

Walpole  was  not  a  man  to  do  things  by  halves, 
and  having  found  that  public  opinion  was  dead 
against  him  on  the  excise,  he  determined  to  drop 
the  scheme  altogether.  When,  in  the  next  session, 
Pulteney  endeavoured  to  fan  the  flame  of  opposition 
by  insinuating  that  it  would  be  revived,  in  some 
form,  Walpole  out-manoeuvred  him  by  frankly  con- 


fessing  his  failure.  "  As  to  the  wicked  scheme,"  he 
said,  "  as  the  honourable  gentleman  was  pleased  to 
call  it,  which  he  would  persuade  us  is  not  yet  laid 
aside,  I  for  my  own  part  can  assure  this  House  I  am 
not  so  mad  as  ever  again  to  engage  in  anything  that 
looks  like  an  excise,  though  in  my  own  private 
opinion  I  still  think  it  was  a  scheme  that  would 
have  tended  very  much  to  the  interests  of  the 
nation." l  This  frank  confession  of  defeat  prevented 
the  Opposition  from  harping  any  longer  on  the 
iniquity  of  the  excise.  But  it  reasonably  gave 
them  hope  that  a  Minister  who,  by  his  own  con- 
fession, had  brought  forward  a  scheme  which  had 
been  rejected  with  contumely  by  the  nation  should 
constitutionally  be  compelled  to  resign.  Popular 
execration  had  been  directed  not  only  against  the 
scheme  but  against  its  author,  and  it  was  a  Pyrrhic 
victory  indeed  which  routed  the  host  but  left  the 
commander  in  possession  of  the  field.  But  Queen 
Caroline  was  as  good  as  her  word ;  she  deter- 
mined never  to  part  with  Walpole  as  long  as  she 
lived,  and  the  King  echoed  her  sentiments.  In 
vain  did  the  Opposition  invoke  the  sacred  ark  of 
the  Constitution  ;  they  only  broke  themselves  against 
the  rock  of  the  Queen's  influence. 

The  group  of  peers  who  held  office  under  the 
Crown  and  yet  had  arrayed  themselves  against  Wal- 
pole, in  the  confident  hope  that  he  would  be  forced  to 
resign,  now  found  themselves  in  a  peculiarly  difficult 
position.  The  King  and  Queen  were  indignant  with 

1  Parliamentary  History,  vol.  ix.,  p.  254. 


them,  nor  did  Walpole  treat  them  with  magnanimity. 
He  forgave  the  repugnance  of  the  nation  to  his 
scheme  ;  he  could  not  forgive  the  repugnance  of  his 
colleagues.  Always  domineering  and  impatient  of  op- 
position, he  now  gave  his  vengeance  full  swing.  Lord 
Chesterfield,  who  held  the  office  of  Lord  Steward 
of  the  Household,  was  the  first  to  feel  his  resent- 
ment. Chesterfield  was  going  up  the  great  staircase 
of  St.  James's  Palace  two  days  after  the  Excise  Bill 
was  dropped,  when  an  attendant  stopped  him  from 
entering  the  presence  chamber,  and  handed  him  a 
summons  requesting  him  to  surrender  his  white  staff. 
In  this  might  be  seen  also  the  hand  of  the  Queen. 
The  same  day  Lord  Clinton,  lord  of  the  bedchamber, 
Lord  Burlington,  who  held  another  office,  the  Duke 
of  Montrose  and  Lord  Marchmont,  who  held  sine- 
cures in  Scotland,  and  Lord  Stair  were  dismissed. 
Other  peers  were  also  deprived  of  their  commissions, 
including  the  Duke  of  Bolton  and  Lord  Cobham. 
Thus  did  Walpole  triumph  over  his  enemies. 




THERE  was  another  and  more  dangerous  enemy 
whom  Walpole  could  not  touch,  and  of  whose  dislike 
he  was  at  this  time  not  fully  aware — the  Prince  of 
Wales.  Throughout  the  excise  agitation  the  Prince 
had  silently  and  stealthily  worked  against  his  parents 
and  the  Prime  Minister.  He  had  now  become 
more  familiar  with  the  position  of  affairs  in  England, 
and  had  learnt  the  importance  of  his  position  in 
the  state. 

The  Prince  was  a  constant  source  of  trouble  to 
the  King,  nor  was  the  blame  wholly  on  Frederick's 
side.  The  Queen  urged  the  advisability  of  giving 
the  Prince  a  separate  establishment,  and  went  to 
look  at  a  house  for  him  in  George  Street,  Hanover 
Square,  but  the  King  stubbornly  refused  to  give 
the  necessary  money,  and  so  Frederick  had  perforce 
to  live  with  his  parents  in  apartments  in  one  of  the 
palaces,  and  to  be  a  daily  recipient  of  his  father's 
slights.  Such  a  position  would  have  been  trying 
for  the  most  virtuous  and  dutiful  of  sons,  and  the 
Prince  was  neither  virtuous  nor  dutiful.  Moreover, 
though  Parliament  granted  the  King  ,£100,000  for 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  yet  Frederick  received  only 


a  small  allowance  from  his  father,  and  even  that  was 
uncertain.  Under  these  circumstances  he  quickly 
accumulated  debts,  which  the  King  refused  to  pay. 
The  Queen  interceded  for  him,  but  in  vain,  and  she 
received  no  gratitude  from  her  son,  who  resented,  as 
far  as  he  dared,  her  being  appointed  Regent  in  the 
King's  absence  instead  of  himself.  As  he  was  en- 
tirely dependent  on  his  father  for  money,  he  did  not 
venture  to  make  a  public  protest,  but  he  cherished  a 
grudge  against  his  mother  for  superseding  him. 

With  all  these  grievances,  Frederick  soon 
followed  his  father's  example  of  caballing  against 
his  sire,  and  he  found  plenty  of  sympathy  from  those 
who  were  in  opposition  to  the  court  and  the  Govern- 
ment. He  had  not  been  long  in  England  before 
an  opportunity  was  afforded  him  of  playing  to  the 
popular  gallery  by  an  unpopular  demand  of  the 
Crown  to  Parliament  to  make  good  a  pretended  de- 
ficiency in  the  Civil  List  of  £i  15,000  ;  it  was  really  a 
veiled  form  of  making  the  King  a  further  grant.  The 
measure  was  violently  opposed  by  the  Opposition, 
but  Walpole  succeeded  in  carrying  it  through  the 
House  of  Commons.  A  great  deal  of  ill-feeling 
against  the  court  was  produced  in  the  country  by 
this  extortionate  demand,  and  the  Craftsman  did 
its  best  to  fan  the  flame  of  discontent.  The  Prince 
of  Wales,  who  was  exceedingly  sore  at  his  father's 
meanness  towards  him,  pretended  to  disapprove 
of  the  King's  conduct  in  making  this  demand, 
and  was  inconsiderate  enough  to  say  so  to  certain 
personages,  and  his  words,  repeated  from  mouth 


to  mouth,  did  not  lose  in  the  journey.  Pulteney  and 
Bolingbroke,  and  other  prominent  members  of  the 
Opposition,  quoted  with  approval  what  the  Prince 
had  said,  and  condoled  with  him  on  the  way  in 
which  he  was  treated  by  his  father.  The  rumour 
of  this  reaching  the  King's  ears  incensed  him  the 
more  against  his  son,  but  he  could  not  act  merely 
on  hearsay.  He  had  no  tangible  ground  of  com- 
plaint against  him,  for  the  Prince  was  cautious. 

Another  cause  which  drew  the  Prince  towards 
the  Opposition  was  his  liking  for  literature  and  talent. 
He  seems  to  have  had  a  genuine  taste  for  les  belles 
lettres,  he  wrote  poetry  in  French  and  English, 
some  of  it  not  absolutely  indifferent.1  The  cleverest 
writers  sided  with  the  Opposition  and  the  polished 
periods  of  Bolingbroke,  the  eloquence  of  Wyndham, 
and  the  wit  of  Chesterfield  and  Pulteney,  all 
appealed  to  him.  Bolingbroke,  especially,  gained 
influence  with  the  Prince,  and  in  time  became  his 
political  mentor.  Apart  from  the  political  aspect 
of  the  union,  there  seems  to  have  been  a  sincere 
friendship  between  the  two.  Soon  after  Frederick 
came  to  England,  Bolingbroke  made  overtures  to 
him,  to  which  the  Prince  responded  graciously,  and 
the  first  interview  between  them,  a  secret  one, 
took  place  by  appointment  at  the  house  of  a  mutual 

1  One  stanza  of  his  poem  addressed  to  Sylvia  (the  Princess  of 
Wales)  ends  thus  : — 

"  Peu  d'amis,  reste  d'un  naufrage, 
Je  rassemble  autour  de  moi, 
Et  me  ris  d'  1'etalage 
Qu'a  chez  lui  toujours  un  Roi ! " 


friend.  Bolingbroke  who  was  the  first  to  arrive,  was 
shown  into  the  library,  and  was  passing  the  time 
by  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  bulky  tome.  The 
Prince  entered  the  room  unannounced.  The  book 
fell  to  the  floor,  and  in  his  haste  to  bend  the  knee, 
Bolingbroke's  foot  slipped,  and  had  not  the  Prince 
stepped  forward  to  support  him  he  would  have  fallen 
to  the  ground.  "  My  lord,"  said  Frederick,  with 
exquisite  tact,  as  he  raised  him,  "  I  trust  this  may 
be  an  omen  of  my  succeeding  in  raising  your  for- 

The  Prince  had  charming  manners,  which  he 
inherited  from  his  mother,  and  he  had  other  gifts 
which  won  for  him  popularity,  notably  his  generosity, 
which  verged  on  extravagance.  He  had  that  easy 
and  affable  address  which  sits  so  well  on  a  royal 
personage,  and  he  was  popular  with  the  people.  It 
pleased  them  to  see  the  heir  apparent  walking  about 
the  streets  unguarded,  and  followed  only  by  a  servant. 
And  Frederick  had  always  a  bow  and  a  smile  for  the 
meanest  of  his  father's  subjects  who  recognised  him. 

The  Prince's  chief  favourite  and  counsellor  was 
George  Budd  Doddington,  a  curious  man,  whose 
geniality  and  vanity  were  in  marked  contrast  to  his 
political  intrigues.  He  was  the  nephew  of  Dodding- 
ton, one  of  the  wealthiest  land  owners  in  England, 
whose  sister  had  made  a  mesalliance  with  one  Bubb, 
an  apothecary  of  Carlisle.  On  the  death  of  Bubb, 
his  widow  was  forgiven,  and  her  son  George  suc- 
ceeded to  his  uncle's  vast  estates,  and  assumed  the 
name  of  Doddington  by  royal  licence.  As  he  owned 


two  boroughs,  he  entered  the  House  of  Commons 
and  attached  himself  to  Walpole,  but  on  being  re- 
fused a  peerage  by  that  statesman  he  turned  against 
him.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales  soon  after  his  arrival  in  England,  and  threw 
in  his  lot  with  him.  Doddington  was  a  useful 
friend  to  the  Prince  in  many  ways,  for,  in  addition 
to  his  social  qualities  and  knowledge  of  men,  his 
wealth  was  of  use.  Doddington  not  only  placed 
his  purse  at  the  Prince's  service,  but  suffered  him- 
self to  become  the  butt  of  Frederick's  not  very 
refined  jests  and  practical  jokes.  "  He  submitted," 
says  Horace  Walpole,  "to  the  Prince's  childish 
horseplay,  being  once  rolled  up  in  a  blanket  and 
trundled  downstairs.  Nor  was  he  negligent  of  paying 
more  solid  court  by  lending  his  Royal  Highness 
money."  Frederick  once  observed  to  some  of  his 
boon  companions  :  "  This  is  a  strange  country,  this 
England.  I  am  told  Doddington  is  reckoned  a 
clever  man,  yet  I  got  ,£5,000  out  of  him  this  morning; 
he  has  no  chance  of  ever  seeing  it  again."  But 
Doddington  was  keenly  alive  to  the  social  distinction 
which  the  Prince's  friendship  conferred  upon  him, 
and  no  doubt  received  what  he  considered  an  equi- 
valent for  the  money. 

In  the  Prince's  next  move  for  popularity  Dod- 
dington played  a  passive  part.  He  was  generally 
understood  to  represent  the  Prince  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  when  therefore  he  declined  to 
speak  in  the  House  in  favour  of  the  excise,  it  was 
regarded  as  a  proof  of  the  Prince's  lukewarmness ; 


and  when  another  favourite,  Townshend,  who  was 
the  groom  of  the  bedchamber  to  the  Prince,  actually 
voted  against  the  scheme,  it  was  understood  that 
the  Prince  was  hostile  to  it.  Wyndham  emphasised 
this  in  one  of  his  attacks  on  Walpole.  He  de- 
nounced corruption  and  tyranny,  and  recalled  certain 
unworthy  king's  favourites  of  former  times  :  "What 
was  their  fate?"  he  asked.  "  They  had  the  misfortune 
to  outlive  their  master,  and  his  son,  as  soon  as  he 
came  to  the  throne,  took  off  their  heads."  The 
Prince  of  Wales  was  sitting  under  the  gallery 
listening  to  the  debate,  and  the  allusion  was  cheered 
to  the  echo  by  the  Opposition.  The  Prince's  atti- 
tude was  further  shown  by  his  exceeding  gracious- 
ness  to  Lord  Stair,  who  had  told  the  Queen  his 
mind,  and  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  who  had  offended 
her  past  forgiveness. 

The  King  was  exceedingly  angry,  and  threatened 
to  turn  Townshend  out  of  the  little  appointment 
he  held  under  the  Prince,  but  Walpole  counselled 
letting  him  alone.  Walpole  would  have  punished 
Doddington  had  he  dared,  for  he  regarded  him 
as  the  chief  instigator  of  the  Prince's  rebellious 
conduct.  This  was  most  unfair,  for  Doddington's 
advice  was  always  on  the  side  of  caution,  and  his 
influence  had  more  than  once  prevented  the  Prince 
from  rising  in  open  revolt  against  his  parents. 
Walpole  forgot  for  the  moment  that  behind  the 
Prince  was  one  much  greater  than  Doddington 
whose  enmity  never  slept,  and  that  one  was 
Bolingbroke.  Though  debarred  from  his  seat  in  the 


House  of  Lords,  and  unable  to  raise  his  voice  or 
vote,  Bolingbroke  yet,  by  his  genius  for  intrigue,  the 
vigour  of  his  political  writings  and  his  consummate 
power  of  organisation,  had  done  more  than  any  man 
to  stir  up  public  feeling  against  the  excise,  and  to 
bring  Walpole  within  measurable  distance  of  his 
fall.  Most  of  the  Opposition  were  puppets  moved 
by  this  master  mind,  Wyndham  was  his  mouth- 
piece, even  Pulteney  at  this  time  was  wholly  under 
his  spell.  And  under  the  ordinary  working  of  the 
Constitution,  Bolingbroke  would  have  led  his  hosts  to 
victory  had  not  the  King  and  Queen,  unconstitu- 
tionally, it  must  be  admitted,  retained  their  Prime 

Meanwhile,  though  the  Prince  was  proving  him- 
self a  thorn  in  the  side  of  his  father  and  the  Govern- 
ment, and  though  the  Opposition  championed  his 
cause  with  fervour,  he  could  not  get  his  allowance 
increased,  and  he  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  debt. 
It  came  to  the  ears  of  old  Sarah,  Duchess  of 
Marlborough,  that  the  Prince  was  in  pecuniary  dis- 
tress, and  she  bethought  herself  of  a  scheme  which 
would  at  once  gratify  her  ambition  and  wound  the 
feelings  of  the  King  and  Queen.  She  asked  the 
Prince  to  honour  her  with  a  visit  to  Marlborough 
House,  and,  when  he  came,  she  offered  him  the 
hand  of  her  favourite  granddaughter,  Lady  Diana 
Spencer,  in  marriage,  and  promised  to  give  him 
;£  1 00,000  as  her  portion.  Lady  Diana  was  a 
young  lady  of  much  wit  and  beauty,  and  the  Prince, 

partly  because  he   wanted    the    money,  and   partly 
VOL.  ii.  14 


because  he  knew  the  alliance  would  anger  his 
father  and  mother  beyond  measure,  accepted  the 
offer.  All  arrangements  were  made.  The  day  of 
the  marriage  was  actually  fixed,  and  the  Prince  was 
to  be  secretly  wedded  to  Lady  Diana  by  Duchess 
Sarah's  chaplain  in  the  duchess's  private  lodge  in 
Windsor  Great  Park.  The  Royal  Marriage  Act, 
which  made  illegal  the  marriage  of  a  member  of  the 
royal  family  without  the  consent  of  the  reigning 
monarch,  was  not  then  in  existence,  and  the 
marriage,  if  it  had  been  contracted,  would  have 
been  valid,  and  impossible  to  annul,  except  perhaps 
by  a  special  Act,  which  would  have  had  no  chance 
of  passing  through  Parliament.  There  would  have 
been  nothing  objectionable  about  the  marriage 
except  its  secrecy,  for  Lady  Diana  Spencer  (who 
afterwards  became  Duchess  of  Bedford)  was  by 
birth  and  fortune,  as  by  wit  and  beauty,  far  superior 
to  the  petty  German  princess  whom  the  Prince 
afterwards  married.  But  Walpole  got  to  hear  of 
the  plot  in  time,  and  was  able  to  prevent  the 
.marriage.  It  is  a  pity  that  it  did  not  take  place, 
for  the  subsequent  interview  of  the  parents  with 
old  Duchess  Sarah  on  the  one  side  and  Queen 
Caroline  on  the  other  would  have  been  one  of  the 
most  interesting  in  history. 

An  early  and  congenial  marriage  might  have 
been  the  saving  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Like  his 
father  and  grandfather  he  affected  a  reputation  for 
gallantry,  and  he  was  always  involved  in  affairs 
of  a  more  or  less  disreputable  nature.  In  pursuit 


of  adventures  of  this  kind  he  behaved  more  like  a 
schoolboy  than  a  prince  arrived  at  years  of  dis- 
cretion. Peter  Wentworth  gives  an  account  of  one 
of  his  absurd  escapades.  He  writes  : — 

"  Thursday  morning,  as  the  King  and  Queen 
were  going  to  their  chaise  through  the  garden,  I 
told  them  the  Prince  had  got  his  watch  again.  Our 
farrier's  man  had  found  it  at  the  end  of  the  Mall  with 
the  two  seals  to't.  T,he  Queen  laughed  and  said  : 
'  I  told  you  before  'twas  you  who  stole  it,  and  now 
'tis  very  plain  that  you  got  it  from  the  woman  who 
took  it  from  the  Prince,  and  you  gave  it  to  the 
farrier's  man  to  say  he  had  found  it,  to  get  the 
reward '.  (This  was  twenty  guineas,  which  was 
advertised  with  the  promise  of  no  questions  being 
asked.)  I  took  her  Majesty's  words  for  a  very 
great  compliment,  for  it  looked  as  if  she  thought 
I  could  please  a  woman  better  than  his  Highness. 
Really  his  losing  his  watch,  and  its  being  brought 
back  in  the  manner  it  has  been,  is  very  mysterious, 
and  a  knotty  point  to  be  unravelled  at  Court,  for 
the  Prince  protests  he  was  not  out  of  his  coach  in 
the  park  on  the  Sunday  night  it  was  lost.  But  by 
accident  I  think  I  can  give  some  account  of  this 
affair,  though  it  is  not  my  business  to  say  a  word  of 
it  at  Court,  not  even  to  the  Queen,  who  desired  me 
to  tell  her  all  I  knew  of  it,  with  a  promise  that  she 
would  not  tell  the  Prince.  (And  I  desire  also  the 
story  may  never  go  out  of  Wentworth  Castle  again.) 
My  man,  John  Cooper,  saw  the  Prince  that  night 
let  into  the  park  through  St.  James's  Mews  alone, 


and  the  next  morning  a  grenadier  told  him  the 
Prince  was  robbed  last  night  of  his  watch  and 
twenty-two  guineas  and  a  gold  medal  by  a  woman 
who  had  run  away  from  him.  The  Prince  bid  the 
grenadier  run  after  her  and  take  the  watch  from 
her,  which,  with  the  seals,  were  the  only  things  he 
valued  ;  the  money  she  was  welcome  to,  he  said, 
and  he  ordered  him,  when  he  had  got  the  watch, 
to  let  the  woman  go.  But  the  grenadier  could  not 
find  her,  so  I  suppose  in  her  haste  she  dropped  it  at 
the  end  of  the  Mall,  or  laid  it  down  there,  for  fear  of 
being  discovered  by  the  watch  and  seals,  if  they 
should  be  advertised."1 

The  Prince  also  followed  his  forbears'  example 
in  setting  up  an  accredited  mistress.  His  first 
intrigue  was  with  Miss  Vane  (the  beautiful  Vanilla), 
daughter  of  Lord  Barnard,  and  one  of  the  Queen's 
maids  of  honour,  who,  it  was  wittily  said,  "  was 
willing  to  cease  to  be  one  on  the  first  opportunity  ". 
Miss  Vane  had  many  admirers.  Lord  Harrington 
was  one  of  them,  and  Lord  Hervey  declared  himself 
to  be  another.  But  Lord  Hervey  was  fond  of 
posing  as  a  gallant,  and  his  testimony  on  the  subject 
of  his  conquests  is  of  little  worth.  Miss  Vane  had 
a  good  deal  of  beauty,  but  little  understanding,  and 
her  levity  and  vanity  led  her  into  a  fatal  error. 
About  a  year  after  the  Prince  had  come  to  England 
she  gave  birth  to  a  son  in  her  apartments  in  St. 
James's  Palace,  and  the  child  was  baptised  in  the 
Chapel  Royal,  and  given  the  name  of  Fitz-Frederick 

JThe  Hon.  Peter  Wentworth  to  Lord  Strafford,  London,  1734. 


Vane,  which  was,  of  course,  tantamount  to  explain- 
ing to  all  the  world  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  was 
its  father,  a  fact  which  the  Prince  in  no  wise  sought 
to  deny. 

Queen  Caroline  at  once  dismissed  Miss  Vane 
from  her  service,  and  sharply  reprimanded  the 
Prince,  telling  him  that  in  future  he  must  carry  on 
his  intrigues  outside  the  circle  of  her  household. 
No  such  scandal  had  occurred  since  the  disgrace  of 
Miss  Howe.  Miss  Vane's  family  likewise  cast  her 
off.  The  Prince  took  a  house  for  her,  and  made 
her  an  allowance.  But  the  unfortunate  girl  soon  had 
experience  of  the  fickleness  of  men  in  general,  and  of 
princes  in  particular.  Frederick  neglected  her,  and 
began  to  pay  marked  attentions  to  Lady  Archibald 
Hamilton.  Lady  Archibald  was  no  longer  young, 
she  was  five  and  thirty,  and  the  mother  of  ten  chil- 
dren, and,  unlike  Miss  Vane,  she  had  no  great 
beauty.  But  she  was  clever  and  intriguing,  and 
soon  gained  great  ascendency  over  her  royal  lover, 
whose  attentions  to  her  became  of  the  most  public 
description.  "He,"  says  Lord  Hervey,  "saw  her 
often  at  her  own  house,  where  he  seemed  as  welcome 
to  the  master  as  the  mistress  ;  he  met  her  often  at 
her  sister's  ;  walked  with  her  day  after  day  for 
hours  together  t£te-a-tcte  in  a  morning  in  St. 
James's  Park  ;  and  whenever  she  was  at  the  draw- 
ing-room (which  was  pretty  frequently)  his  behaviour 
was  so  remarkable  that  his  nose  and  her  ear  were 

Miss  Vane  had  small  chance  with  so  clever  a 


rival,  and  Lady  Archibald  urged  the  Prince  to  get 
rid  of  her.  In  this  the  Queen  concurred,  for  she 
resented  the  indiscretion  of  her  ex-maid  of  honour, 
and  as  there  was  some  thought  of  marrying  the 
Prince  at  this  time,  she  thought  it  best  that  he 
should  be  clear  of  affairs  of  this  kind.  She  did  not 
reflect,  or  did  not  know,  that  by  getting  rid  of  Miss 
Vane  she  was  merely  paving  the  way  for  a  far  more 
dangerous  woman  to  take  her  place.  The  Prince 
was  easily  persuaded  to  part  with  Miss  Vane.  He 
sent  Lord  Baltimore,  one  of  his  lords  in  waiting,  to 
her  with  a  message  desiring  her  to  go  abroad  for 
two  or  three  years,  and  leave  her  son  to  be  educated 
in  England.  If  she  complied  the  Prince  was  willing 
to  allow  her  ,£1,600  a  year  for  life,  the  sum  he  had 
given  her  annually  since  she  had  been  dismissed 
from  court ;  if  she  refused,  the  message  wound  up 
by  saying  that :  "  If  she  would  not  live  abroad  she 
might  starve  for  him  in  England  ".  The  unfortunate 
young  lady  was  much  hurt  by  the  matter  and 
manner  of  the  communication.  She  declined  to 
send  any  answer  by  Lord  Baltimore,  on  the  ground 
that  she  must  have  time  to  think.  Lord  Hervey 
says  that  she  then  sent  for  him,  and  asked  him  as  a 
friend  to  advise  her  what  was  best  to  be  done.  He 
and  Miss  Vane  composed  a  letter  to  the  Prince,  in 
which  the  betrayed  lady  was  made  to  say  to  her 
betrayer  : — 

"  Your  Royal  Highness  need  not  be  put  in  mind 
who  I  am,  nor  whence  you  took  me  :  that  I  acted 
not  like  what  I  was  born,  others  may  reproach  me  ; 



but  you  took  me  from  happiness  and  brought  me 
to  misery,  that  I  might  reproach  you.  That  I  have 
long  lost  your  heart  I  have  long  seen,  and  long 
mourned  :  to  gain  it,  or  rather  to  reward  the  gift 
you  made  me  of  it,  I  sacrificed  my  time,  my  youth, 
my  character,  the  world,  my  family,  and  everything 
that  a  woman  can  sacrifice  to  a  man  she  loves ;  how 
little  I  considered  my  interest,  you  must  know  by 
my  never  naming  my  interest  to  you  when  I  made 
this  sacrifice,  and  by  my  trusting  to  your  honour, 
when  I  showed  so  little  regard,  when  put  in  balance 
with  my  love  to  my  own.  I  have  resigned  every- 
thing for  your  sake  but  my  life  ;  and,  had  you  loved 
me  still,  I  would  have  risked  even  that  too  to  please 
you  ;  but  as  it  is,  I  cannot  think,  in  my  state  of 
health,  of  going  out  of  England,  far  from  all  friends 
and  all  physicians  I  can  trust,  and  of  whom  I  stand 
in  so  much  need.  My  child  is  the  only  consolation  I 
have  left ;  I  cannot  leave  him,  nor  shall  anything 
but  death  ever  make  me  quit  the  country  he  is  in." 

When  Frederick  received  this  letter,  instead  of 
being  touched  by  its  pathos,  he  flew  into  a  rage, 
and  swore  that  the  minx  could  never  have  written 
it,  and  he  would  be  revenged  on  the  rascal  who 
helped  her  to  concoct  it.  He  took  all  his  friends 
into  his  confidence,  and  Miss  Vane  took  all  hers, 
and  the  matter  soon  became  the  principal  topic  of 
conversation  at  court,  from  the  Queen  and  the 
Princesses  downwards.  Miss  Vane  gained  much 
sympathy  by  repeating  the  Prince's  brutal  message, 
that  "  if  she  would  not  live  abroad  she  might  for 


him  starve  in  England ".  Everybody  sympathised 
with  her,  and  everybody  blamed  the  Prince,  who 
thereupon  threw  over  Lord  Baltimore,  and  declared 
that  he  had  never  sent  such  a  message  ;  he  must 
have  been  misunderstood.  On  hearing  this,  Miss 
Vane,  acting  on  the  advice  of  Pulteney,  who  was 
thought  by  many  to  have  written  for  her  the  first 
letter,  and  other  friends,  wrote  a  more  submissive 
letter  to  the  Prince.  In  it  she  declared  that  she 
had  certainly  received  the  message  from  Lord  Balti- 
more, though  she  could  hardly  believe  that  it  came 
from  the  Prince's  lips.  It  was  for  him  to  show 
whether  he  had  said  those  words  or  not.  If  he  had 
not,  she  felt  sure  he  would  treat  her  fairly ;  if  he 
had,  then  all  the  world  would  know  how  she  had 
been  ill-treated  and  betrayed. 

Meanwhile  the  affair  from  being  the  gossip  of 
the  court  became  the  talk  of  the  town,  and  ballads 
and  pamphlets  on  the  fair  Vanilla  were  everywhere 
circulated,  under  such  titles  as  <l  Vanilla  on  the 
Straw,"  "Vanilla,  or  the  Amours  of  the  Court," 
"Vanessa,  or  the  Humours  of  the  Court  of  Modern 
Gallantry,"  etc.  The  Prince  seeing  that  he  could 
not  abandon  the  lady  without  considerable  discredit, 
at  last  agreed  to  settle  on  her  ,£1,600  a  year  for  life, 
to  give  her  the  house  in  Grosvenor  Street  which 
she  had  occupied  since  she  had  been  dismissed  from 
court,  and  to  allow  her  son  to  remain  with  her — in 
short,  he  yielded  all  her  terms. 

Poor  Miss  Vane  did  not  long  enjoy  her  fortune. 
Perhaps  she  really  loved  her  faithless  wooer ;  she 

died  at  Bath  soon  after,  her  friends  said  of  a  broken 
heart.  Her  child  died  about  the  same  time.  The 
Queen  and  Princess  Caroline  declared  that  the 
Prince  showed  more  feeling  at  the  loss  of  this  child 
than  they  had  thought  him  capable  of  possessing. 
Perhaps  it  was  remorse. 

The  two  elder  Princesses,  Anne  and  Amelia, 
were  always  quarrelling  with  their  brother.  Amelia 
at  first  pretended  to  be  his  friend,  and  then  betrayed 
him  to  the  King.  When  the  Prince  found  this  out 
he  hated  her,  and  when  the  King  discovered  it  he 
despised  her ;  so  she  became  disliked  by  both. 
Anne,  Princess  Royal,  was  at  perpetual  feud  with 
her  brother,  and  their  strife  came  to  a  head,  strangely 
enough,  over  music.  The  Princess  had  been  in- 
structed by  Handel,  and  helped  him  by  every  means 
in  her  power.  When  Handel  took  over  the  man- 
agement of  the  opera  at  the  Hay  market,  the  Princess 
induced  the  King  and  Queen  to  take  a  box  there, 
and  to  frequently  attend  the  performances.  All 
those  who  wished  to  be  in  favour  with  the  court 
followed  suit  and  the  Hay  market  became  a  fashion- 
able resort.  The  Prince  saw  in  this  an  opportunity 
of  annoying  his  sister,  and  of  showing  disrespect 
to  the  King  and  Queen.  He  affected  not  to  care 
about  Handel's  music,  and  set  to  work  to  organise 
a  series  of  operas  at  the  theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  Party  feeling  ran  very  high  just  then,  and 
seeing  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  so  much 
interested  in  the  opera  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
many  of  the  Opposition,  and  all  those  who  had  a 


grudge  against  the  court,  made  a  point  of  attending 
the  opera  there,  and  it  soon  became  a  formidable 
rival  to  the  Haymarket.  Instead  of  ignoring  this, 
the  King  and  Queen  took  the  matter  up,  and  made 
it  a  personal  grievance.  They  patronised  Handel 
more  than  ever,  and  made  it  a  point  that  their 
courtiers  should  do  the  same.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  all  those  who  appeared  at  the  Haymarket  were 
regarded  as  the  friends  of  the  King  and  Queen,  and 
all  those  who  attended  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  were 
looked  upon  as  the  Prince's  friends. 

Opposition  is  always  popular,  and  the  Prince 
managed  to  gather  around  him  the  younger  and 
livelier  spirits  among  the  nobility,  and  the  most 
beautiful  and  fashionable  of  the  ladies  of  quality. 
Certainly  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  was  much  more 
patronised,  and  the  King  and  Queen  and  the  Prin- 
cess Royal  would  often  go  to  one  of  Handel's  operas 
at  the  Haymarket  and  find  a  half  empty  house. 
This  gave  Lord  Chesterfield  an  opportunity  of 
uttering  one  of  his  witticisms.  One  night  when 
he  came  to  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  he  told  the  Prince 
that  he  had  just  looked  in  at  the  Haymarket,  but 
found  nobody  there  but  the  King  and  Queen,  "and 
as  I  thought  they  might  be  talking  business  I  came 
away,"  he  said  ;  a  joke  which  vastly  pleased  the 
Prince,  and  greatly  incensed  the  court.  Referring 
to  the  large  attendance  of  peers  at  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields,  the  Princess  Royal  said,  with  a  sneer,  that 
she  "  expected  in  a  little  while  to  see  half  the  House 
of  Lords  playing  in  the  orchestra  in  their  robes  and 


coronets".  Conscious  of  failure  she  felt  extremely 
bitter  against  her  brother,  and  abused  him  roundly. 
But  the  Prince  had  won  and  could  afford  to  laugh  at 
his  sister's  invectives.  The  court  was  so  deplorably 
dull,  he  said,  that  all  those  with  any  pretensions  to 
wit,  beauty  or  fashion  refused  to  follow  its  lead,  and 
looked  to  him,  the  heir  to  the  throne,  as  their  natural 
leader,  notwithstanding  the  way  in  which  he  was 
treated  by  the  King  and  Queen. 

Certainly  the  private  life  of  the  Court  was  far 
from  lively.  The  clockwork  regularity  of  the  King, 
both  in  business  and  in  pleasure,  and  the  limited 
range  of  his  amusements  and  interests  tended  to 
make  his  court  appallingly  dull — in  contrast  to  the 
old  days  at  Leicester  House.  Mrs.  Howard,  whose 
little,  parties  had  once  been  so  popular,  now  with- 
drew more  and  more  to  herself.  She  would  probably 
have  retired  from  court  altogether  had  it  not  been 
that  by  the  death  of  her  brother-in-law,  her  husband 
became  Earl  of  Suffolk.  As  she  was  now  a  countess 
she  could  no  longer  hold  the  inferior  position  of 
bedchamber-woman,  and  placed  her  resignation  in 
the  Queen's  hands,  who,  however,  met  the  case  by 
making  her  Mistress  of  the  Robes,  and  so  retaining 
her  about  the  court.  Lady  Suffolk  had  no  longer 
to  perform  the  duties  at  the  Queen's  toilet  which 
had  given  her  so  much  umbrage,  and  her  position 
became  pleasanter  in  consequence  of  the  change. 
We  find  her  writing  to  Gay  a  little  later :  "  To 
prevent  all  future  quarrels  and  disputes  I  shall  let 
you  know  that  I  have  kissed  hands  for  the  place  of 


Mistress  of  the  Robes.  Her  Majesty  did  me  the 
honour  to  give  me  the  choice  of  lady  of  the  bed- 
chamber, or  that  which  I  find  so  much  more  agree- 
able to  me  that  I  did  not  take  one  moment  to 
consider  it.  The  Duchess  of  Dorset  resigned  it  for 
me  ;  and  everything  as  yet  promises  more  happiness 
for  the  latter  part  of  my  life  than  I  have  yet  had  the 
prospect  of.  Seven  nights'  quiet  sleep  and  seven 
easy  days  have  almost  worked  a  miracle  in  me."1 

Even  Lord  Hervey  complained  bitterly  at  this 
time  of  the  monotony  of  his  daily  round.  He  was 
dissatisfied,  and  considered  that  his  services  to  the 
Government  and  the  Crown  should  be  repaid  by 
some  more  considerable  appointment  than  the  one 
he  held,  which  most  people  thought  equal  to  his 
abilities,  and  was  certainly  in  excess  of  his  deserts. 
But  Walpole,  who  knew  how  useful  Hervey  was  as 
go-between,  would  not  remove  him  from  his  post 
about  the  Queen,  notwithstanding  his  representa- 
tions. Chafing  under  this  refusal  Lord  Hervey 
wrote  the  following  letter  to  his  friend  Mrs.  Clayton, 
another  courtier  and  favourite  who  could  sympathise 
with  him  in  his  ennui.  It  gives  anything  but  a 
flattering  picture  of  the  royal  circle  : — 

<l  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  any  account  of  our 
occupations  at  Hampton  Court.  No  mill-horse  ever 
went  in  a  more  constant  track,  or  a  more  unchanging 
circle,  so  that  by  the  assistance  of  an  almanack  for 
the  day  of  the  week,  and  a  watch  for  the  hour  of 

1  Lady  Suffolk  to  Gay,  Hampton  Court,  2gth  June,  1731.  Suffolk 


the  day,  you  may  inform  yourself  fully,  without  any 
other  intelligence  but  your  memory,  of  every  trans- 
action within  the  verge  of  the  Court.  Walking, 
chaises,  levies,  and  audiences  fill  the  morning ;  at 
night  the  King  plays  at  commerce  and  backgammon, 
and  the  Queen  at  quadrille,  where  poor  Lady  Char- 
lotte (de  Roussie)  runs  her  usual  nightly  gauntlet— 
the  Queen  pulling  her  hood,  Mr.  Schiitz  sputtering 
in  her  face,  and  the  Princess  Royal  rapping  her 
knuckles,  all  at  a  time.  It  was  in  vain  she  fled 
from  persecution  for  her  religion  :  she  suffers  for 
her  pride  what  she  escaped  for  her  faith  ;  undergoes 
in  a  drawing-room  what  she  dreaded  from  the 
Inquisition,  and  will  die  a  martyr  to  a  Court,  though 
not  to  a  Church. 

"  The  Duke  of  Grafton  takes  his  nightly  opiate  of 
lottery,  and  sleeps  as  usual  between  the  Princesses 
Amelia  and  Caroline  ;  Lord  Grantham  strolls  from 
one  room  to  another  (as  Dryden  says)  like  some 
discontented  ghost  that  oft  appears,  and  is  forbid  to 
speak,  and  stirs  himself  about,  as  people  stir  a  fire, 
not  with  any  design,  but  in  hopes  to  make  it  burn 
brisker,  which  his  lordship  constantly  does,  to  no 
purpose,  and  yet  tries  as  constantly  as  if  he  had  ever 
once  succeeded. 

"At  last  the  King  comes  up,  the  pool  finishes, 
and  everybody  has  their  dismission  :  their  Majesties 
retire  to  Lady  Charlotte  and  my  Lord  Lifford  ;  the 
Princesses  to  Bilderbec  and  Lony  ;  my  Lord  Gran- 
tham to  Lady  Frances  and  Mr.  Clark ;  some  to 
supper,  and  some  to  bed  ;  and  thus  (to  speak  in 


the  Scripture  phrase)  the  evening  and  the  morning 
make  the  day." 1 

Lord  Hervey  may  have  been  prejudiced,  but 
independent  testimony  comes  from  Lady  Pomfret, 
who  was  then  in  attendance  at  court.  She  writes  : 
"  All  things  appear  to  move  in  the  same  manner  as 
usual,  and  all  our  actions  are  as  mechanical  as  the 
clock  which  directs  them."2 

1  Lord  Hervey  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  Hampton  Court,  3ist  July,  1733. 
Sundon  Correspondence. 

2  The  Countess  of  Pomfret  to  Mrs.  Clayton,   Hampton  Court 
Sundon  Correspondence. 




IN  no  sphere  was  Caroline's  influence  more  marked 
than  in  Church  affairs  ;  she  held  the  reins  of  ec- 
clesiastical patronage  in  her  hands,  and  during  her 
ten  years'  reign  as  Queen  Consort  or  Queen-Regent 
no  important  appointment  was  made  in  the  Church 
without  her  consent  and  approval.  George  the 
Second  was  a  Protestant  of  the  Lutheran  type,  not 
so  much  from  conviction,  for  he  never  troubled  to 
inquire  into  religious  matters,  as  from  education  and 
environment.  He  had  no  liking  for  the  Church  of 
England,  but  as  his  office  compelled  him  to  con- 
form to  it,  he  did  so  without  difficulty.  The 
established  Church  was  to  him  merely  a  department 
of  the  civil  service  of  which  he  was  the  head.  He 
always  accepted  the  Queen's  recommendations, 
and  was  as  a  rule  indifferent  about  ecclesiastical 

Walpole  was  quite  as  Erastian  as  the  King  and 
even  less  orthodox.  He  had  no  religious  convic- 
tions, and  did  not  make  pretence  to  any  ;  provided 
the  bishops  were  his  political  supporters,  he  cared 
nothing  for  their  Church  views ;  they  might  dis- 
believe in  the  Trinity,  but  they  must  believe  in  him  ; 


they  might  reject  the  Athanasian  Creed  (or  the 
Apostles'  Creed  too  for  that  matter),  but  they  must 
profess  the  articles  of  the  Whig  faith.  In  those 
days  the  High  Church  clergy  were  Tory,  and 
the  Low  Church  were  Whig ;  therefore  Walpole 
appointed  Low  Church  bishops,  but  he  had  as  little 
liking  for  the  one  school  of  thought  as  the  other. 
A  thorough-going  sceptic  himself,  he  had  a  con- 
tempt for  the  latitudinarian  clergy,  regarding  them 
as  men  who  sought  to  reconcile  the  irreconcilable. 
But  he  cared  nothing  about  their  views ;  all  he 
asked  was  that  they  should  keep  their  heterodox 
opinions  to  themselves  and  not  write  pamphlets  or 
preach  sermons  which  stirred  up  strife  in  the  Church, 
and  made  trouble  for  the  Government.  Early  in 
his  political  career  the  Sacheverel  disturbance  had 
given  him  a  wholesome  dread  of  arousing  the  odium 
theologicum,  and  he  determined  never  to  repeat  the 
mistake  he  made  then,  but  to  let  the  Church  severely 
alone.  In  his  ecclesiastical  patronage  he  was  guided 
chiefly  by  Dr.  Gibson,  Bishop  of  London,  and  he 
preferred  to  appoint  safe  men,  not  particularly 
distinguished  in  any  way,  except  when  he  deferred 
to  the  wishes  of  the  Queen,  who  kept  an  eye  on  all 
Church  appointments. 

Caroline  might  be  described  as  an  unorthodox 
Protestant.  Theology  interested  her  greatly,  but 
her  inquiries  carried  her  into  the  shadowy  regions 
of  universalism,  and  the  refined  Ananism  of  her 
favourite  chaplain,  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke.  She  no 
more  believed  in  an  infallible  Bible  than  in  an 


infallible  Pope.  The  Protestant  Dissenters,  whom 
she  favoured  with  her  patronage,  would  have  recoiled 
in  horror  from  her  broad  views  had  they  known 
them,  and  would  have  denounced  her  with  little  less 
fervour  than  they  denounced  popery  and  prelacy. 
But  Caroline  took  care  that  they  should  not  know 
her  views,  and  however  freely  she  might  express 
herself  to  Dr.  Clarke  and  Mrs.  Clayton,  and  at  her 
metaphysical  discussions,  she  kept  a  seal  upon  her 
lips  in  public.  By  law  it  was  necessary  that  she 
should  be  a  member  of  the  established  Church,  and 
she  was  careful  always  to  scrupulously  conform  to 
its  worship.  She  had  prayers  read  to  her  every 
morning  by  her  chaplains  ;  on  Sundays  and  holy 
days  she  regularly  attended  the  services  in  one  of 
the  Chapels  Royal.  So  particular  was  she  that,  one 
Sunday  when  the  King  and  Queen  were  too  ill  to 
go  to  church  and  had  to  keep  their  beds,  the  chaplain 
came  and  read  the  service  to  them  in  their  bedroom. 
The  Queen  made  a  point  of  receiving  the  Holy 
Communion  on  the  great  festivals  of  the  Church's 
year,  such  as  Easter  and  Christmas ;  and  Lady 
Cowper  comments  on  the  devoutness  of  her  be- 
haviour on  these  occasions.  Paragraphs  like  the 
following  figured  at  regular  intervals  in  the  Gazette  : 
"  On  Christmas  Day  the  King  and  Queen,  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  Princess  Royal,  the  Princesses 
Amelia  and  Caroline,  with  several  of  the  nobility 
and  other  persons  of  distinction,  received  the  sacra- 
ment in  the  Chapel  Royal  of  St.  James's".1 

1  London  Gazette,  27th  December,  1729. 
VOL.  II.  15 


Nor  were  the  lesser  festivals  of  the  Church 
overlooked  :  "  On  the  Feast  of  the  Epiphany  their 
Majesties,  the  King  and  Queen,  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  the  three  eldest  Princesses,  went  to  the 
Chapel  Royal,  preceded  by  the  King's  Heralds  and 
Pursuivants-at-Arms,  and  heard  divine  service.  His 
Grace  the  Duke  of  Manchester  carried  the  sword  of 
state  to  and  from  chapel  for  their  Majesties,  and  his 
Majesty  and  the  Prince  of  Wales  made  their  offer- 
ings at  the  altar,  of  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh, 
according  to  annual  custom."  The  ending  of  the 
day  was  of  a  more  secular  nature.  "  At  night  their 
Majesties  played  at  hazard  with  the  nobility  for  the 
benefit  of  the  groom  porter;  and  'twas  said  the 
King  won  six  hundred  guineas,  the  Queen  three 
hundred  and  sixty,  Princess  Amelia  twenty,  Princess 
Caroline  ten,  the  Duke  of  Grafton  and  the  Earl  of 
Portmore  several  thousand."  Even  King  Charles 
the  Martyr,  the  latest  addition  to  the  prayer-book 
kalendar,  was  not  forgotten  by  the  family  who  were 
keeping  his  grandson  from  the  throne,  for  we  read  : 
"  Yesterday  being  the  anniversary  of  the  martyrdom 
of  King  Charles  the  First,  their  Majesties  and  the 
Royal  Family  attended  divine  service,  and  appeared 
in  mourning,  as  is  usual  on  that  day  V 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  matter  of  outward 
conformity  to  the  rites  of  the  established  Church  the 
Queen  gave  no  occasion  for  cavil.  She  gave  large 
sums  to  Church  charities,  such  as  ^500  at  a  time 
to  the  Corporation  of  the  Sons  of  the  Clergy ;  she 

1  Daily  Courant,  3ist  January,  1733. 


endowed  livings  and  restored  churches,  such  as 
Richmond,  Greenwich  and  Kensington,  presenting 
to  Greenwich  a  fine  peal  of  bells,  and  to  Kensington 
a  new  steeple.  She  even  feigned  an  interest  in 
missionary  work,  and  listened  patiently  to  Berkeley 
when  he  expounded  to  her  his  scheme  for  establish- 
ing a  missionary  college  in  Bermuda  in  connection 
with  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel. 
She  did  little  to  forward  it,  and  he  somewhat 
ungratefully  declared  that  his  visits  to  her  had  been 
so  much  waste  of  time,  and  called  her  discussions 
"useless  debates".  Yet,  though  the  Queen  did  little 
to  convert  his  heathens,  she  remembered  Berkeley 
later,  and  obtained  for  him  the  deanery  of  Down. 

But,  with  all  her  outward  conformity,  Caroline 
never  understood  the  peculiar  position  of  the  Church 
of  England,  nor  did  she  trouble  to  understand  it. 
Once,  soon  after  she  came  to  England,  Dr.  Robin- 
son, then  Bishop  of  London,  who  was  opposed  to 
Dr.  Samuel  Clarke's  views,  waited  upon  her  to 
endeavour  to  explain  the  Church's  teaching,  but  he 
met  with  a  repulse.  Lady  Cowper  says :  "  This 
day  the  Bishop  of  London  waited  on  my  mistress, 
and  desired  Mrs.  Howard  to  go  into  the  Princess 
and  say  that  he  thought  it  was  his  duty  to  wait  upon 
her,  as  he  was  Dean  of  the  Chapel,  to  satisfy  her 
on  any  doubts  and  scruples  she  might  have  in  regard 
to  our  religion,  and  explain  anything  to  her  which 
she  did  not  comprehend.  She  was  a  little  nettled 
when  Mrs.  Howard  delivered  this  message,  and 
said  :  '  Send  him  away  civilly  ;  though  he  is  very 


impertinent  to  suppose  that  I,  who  refused  to  be 
Empress  for  the  sake  of  the  Protestant  religion,  do 
not  understand  it  fully'."  Caroline's  words  show 
how  little  she  realised,  or  sympathised  with,  the 
position  of  the  Church  of  England ;  it  was  to  her 
a  Protestant  sect — that  and  nothing  more.  The 
Church  of  Laud,  Juxon,  Andre wes,  Sancroft  and 
Ken,  the  via  media  between  Roman  Catholicism 
and  Protestantism,  did  not  appeal  to  her ;  in  fact 
she  viewed  it  with  dislike.  She  made  no  pretence 
to  impartiality  in  her  patronage,  or  to  holding  the 
balance  even  between  the  different  parties  in  the 
Church ;  all  her  bishops  were  more  or  less  of  her 
way  of  thinking.  She  would  have  made  Dr. 
Samuel  Clarke  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  when 
Archbishop  Wake  died,  had  it  not  been  for  Bishop 
Gibson's  temperate  remonstrance.  He  told  her  that 
though  Clarke  was  "  the  most  learned  and  honest 
man  in  her  dominions,  yet  he  had  one  difficulty — he 
was  not  a  Christian".  To  do  Clarke  justice,  he 
never  desired  a  bishopric,  and  he  had  doubts  about 
the  propriety  of  accepting  one.  Moreover,  he  pre- 
ferred his  unique  position  at  the  court,  where  he  was, 
unofficially,  the  keeper  of  the  Queen's  conscience. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  Queen  in  her  dis- 
tribution of  ecclesiastical  patronage  always  recognised 
the  claims  of  scholarship  and  learning,  and  she  took 
infinite  pains  to  discover  the  most  deserving  men. 
Among  the  divines  to  whom  she  gave  high  prefer- 
ment, besides  Berkeley,  were  the  learned  Butler  and 
the  judicious  Seeker,  many  years  later  Archbishop  of 


Canterbury.  Seeker,  when  he  was  Queen's  chaplain, 
mentioned  to  Caroline  one  day  the  name  of  Butler, 
the  famous  author  of  The  Analogy  between  Natural 
and  Revealed  Religion.  The  Queen  said  she  had 
thought  that  he  was  dead ;  Seeker  said :  "  No, 
madam,  not  dead  but  buried ".  The  Queen  took 
the  hint,  and  soon  after  appointed  Butler  Clerk  of 
the  Closet.  He  was  thus  brought  into  contact  with 
her,  and  she  delighted  exceedingly  in  his  psycho- 
logical bent,  and  would  command  him  to  come  to 
her,  on  her  free  evenings,  from  seven  to  nine,  to 
talk  philosophy  and  metaphysics.  She  caused  his 
name  to  be  put  down  for  the  next  vacant  bishopric, 
and  on  her  death-bed  she  commended  Butler  par- 
ticularly to  the  King,  who  carried  out  his  wife's 
wishes  and  made  him  Bishop  of  Durham. 

Dr.  Thomas  Sherlock,  a  man  eminent  for  his 
talents  and  learning,  was  much  liked  by  the  Queen. 
She  appointed  him  to  the  see  of  Bangor,  and  later 
translated  him  to  Salisbury  in  succession  to  his 
rival  Hoadley.  For  some  time  Sherlock  filled 
much  the  same  position  with  the  Queen  that 
Gibson,  Bishop  of  London,  did  with  Walpole. 
He  was  the  Queen's  favourite  bishop,  and  she 
intended  to  translate  him  to  London  when  Arch- 
bishop Wake  should  die,  and  Gibson,  whom 
Whiston  used  to  call  "  the  heir  apparent  to  Canter- 
bury," should  be  advanced  to  the  primacy  by  Wal- 
pole. Between  these  two  eminent  prelates,  Sherlock 
and  Gibson,  there  existed  a  most  unchristian  spirit 
of  jealousy,  and  Gibson  besought  Walpole  not  to 


allow  Sherlock  to  succeed  him  in  the  bishopric  of 
London.  Alas !  for  the  mutability  of  temporal 
things  :  when  at  last  Wake  died,  it  was  not  Gibson, 
but  a  comparatively  unknown  bishop,  Potter  of 
Oxford,  who  succeeded  him  in  the  primacy.  Before 
that  time  arrived  Gibson  fell  out  of  favour  with 
Walpole,  and  Sherlock  with  the  Queen,  for  the 
part  they  played  in  securing  the  rejection  of  the 
Quakers'  Relief  Bill.  Walpole  had  yielded  to  the 
clamour  of  the  Church  party  so  far  as  to  refuse 
to  repeal  the  Test  and  Corporation  Acts,  but  by 
way  of  compensation  to  the  dissenters  he  wished 
to  carry  a  bill  for  the  relief  of  Quakers.  It  was 
a  point  of  conscience  with  the  Quakers  to  refuse 
to  pay  tithes  unless  compelled  to  do  so  by 
legal  force.  This  force  was  always  applied,  and 
they  paid.  All  they  asked  for  now  was  that  the 
legal  proceedings  against  them  should  be  made  less 
costly.  Walpole  was  willing  to  give  them  this 
relief  and  the  Queen  supported  him,  but  the  bishops, 
headed  by  Gibson  and  seconded  by  Sherlock,  elated 
by  their  recent  victory  over  the  Nonconformists, 
rose  against  it  to  a  man,  and  though  the  Bill  was 
carried  in  the  Commons  it  was  rejected  by  the 
Lords.  The  King  was  highly  indignant  and  de- 
nounced the  whole  bench  of  bishops  as  "  a  parcel 
of  black,  canting,  hypocritical  rascals ".  Walpole's 
resentment  was  especially  levelled  against  Gibson, 
and  the  Queen's  against  Sherlock.  The  Queen  sent 
for  the  latter  bishop  and  trounced  him  in  terms 
which  recall  those  which  Queen  Elizabeth  was 


said  to  address  to  her  recalcitrant  prelates  :  "How 
is  it  possible,"  said  Caroline  to  Sherlock,  "you 
could  be  so  blind  and  so  silly  as  to  be  running 
a  race  of  popularity  with  the  Bishop  of  London 
among  the  clergy,  and  hope  you  would  rise  upon 
the  Bishop  of  London's  ruins  (whom  you  hate 
and  wish  ruined)  when  you  were  going  hand  in 
hand  with  him  in  these  very  paths  which  you  hoped 
would  ruin  him  ?  .  .  .  Are  you  not  ashamed  not  to 
have  seen  this,  and  to  have  been  at  once  in  this 
whole  matter,  the  Bishop  of  London's  assistant  and 
enemy — tool  and  dupe  ?  "  She  told  the  crestfallen 
prelate  that  in  the  present  temper  of  the  King  and 
Prime  Minister  he  could  hope  for  neither  London 
nor  Canterbury,  and  advised  him  to  go  to  his  dio- 
cese and  try  to  live  it  down.  As  their  dioceses  were 
the  last  places  where  Queen  Caroline's  bishops 
were  generally  to  be  found,  this  was  equivalent  to  a 
sentence  of  banishment.  Many  years  later  Sherlock 
succeeded  Gibson  as  Bishop  of  London. 

The  Queen's  chief  adviser  in  Church  matters 
was  her  favourite,  Mrs.  Clayton.  Mrs.  Clayton  had 
no  pretence  to  learning,  and  was  ignorant  of  the 
rudiments  of  theology — though,  like  many  women 
of  her  type,  she  loved  to  pose  as  an  authority 
on  theological  questions.  She  had  imbibed  the 
Arian  principles  then  fashionable  at  court,  and 
could  repeat  parrot-wise  the  shibboleth  of  her  party. 
As  she  held  much  the  same  views  as  the  Queen 
(though  without  her  saving  graces  of  learning 
and  common  sense),  they  often  settled  between 


them  who  should  succeed  to  the  vacant  deaneries 
and  bishoprics.  Walpole  came  often  in  conflict  with 
Mrs.  Clayton  over  Church  appointments,  for  she 
was  always  urging  the  Queen  to  prefer  extreme 
men  of  heterodox  views  who  gave  much  trouble  to 
the  Government  by  their  indiscreet  utterances.  At 
last,  after  several  experiences  of  the  vagaries  of 
these  bellicose  divines,  Walpole  remonstrated  so 
strongly  that  Mrs.  Clayton's  recommendations  were 
chiefly  confined  to  the  Irish  Church.  Here  for 
years  she  appointed  practically  whom  she  would. 
The  influence  of  the  Queen's  woman  of  the  bed- 
chamber was  well  known  to  aspiring  divines,  and  she 
was  overwhelmed  with  letters  from  parsons  and  pre- 
lates pining  for  preferment.  Many  of  these  letters 
(preserved  in  theSundon  correspondence)  are  couched 
in  the  most  cringing  tone,  and  are  full  of  the  grossest 
flattery.  The  deans  and  bishops  in  esse  or  in  posse 
generally  followed  up  their  letters  by  making  her  little 
presents ;  for  instance,  we  find  the  Bishop  of  Cork 
sending  her  a  dozen  bottles  of  "green  usquebaugh, 
sealed  with  the  figure  of  St.  Patrick  on  black  wax," 
and  another  prelate  a  suit  of  fine  Irish  linen. 

Among  Mrs.  Clayton's  Irish  protdgds  was  Dr. 
Clayton,  a  kinsman  of  her  husband,  for  whom  she 
procured,  despite  the  protest  of  the  Primate  of 
Ireland,  the  bishopric  of  Clogher.  Bishop  Clayton 
made  several  attacks  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity, 
and  once  proposed  in  the  Irish  House  of  Lords 
to  abolish  from  the  prayer-book  the  Nicene  and 
Athanasian  Creeds,  in  a  speech  of  which  one  of  his 


colleagues  remarked,  "  it  made  his  ears  tingle ". 
Dr.  Clayton  was  not  much  of  a  scholar,  and  less 
of  a  theologian,  and  he  adapted  his  views  to 
meet  the  approval  of  his  patroness.  The  letters 
of  this  spiritual  pastor  to  Queen  Caroline's  woman 
of  the  bedchamber  are  models  of  subserviency. 
Once  Mrs.  Clayton  rebuked  him  for  a  sermon  he 
had  preached  on  the  death  of  Charles  the  First,  which 
seemed  to  her  to  praise  the  King  overmuch.  He 
•at  once  wrote  to  express  his  regret,  and  said  he 
would  tone  it  down  by  adding  "  bred  up  with  notions 
of  despotic  government  under  the  pernicious  in- 
fluence of  his  father".  He  placed  his  patronage, 
like  his  opinions,  at  her  disposal,  and  kept  her 
informed  of  everything  that  went  on  in  Ireland- 
acting,  in  fact,  as  a  sort  of  spy  in  the  court  interest. 
His  complaisance  was  rewarded  by  his  patroness, 
who  caused  him  to  be  successively  advanced  to  the 
wealthier  sees  of  Killala  and  Cork.  Most  effusive 
was  his  gratitude  :  "Mrs.  Clayton  cannot  command 
what  I  will  not  perform,"  he  writes,  and  again : 
"  Could  you  but  form  to  yourself  the  image  of 
another  person  endued  with  the  same  steadiness 
of  friendship,  liveliness  of  conversation,  soundness 
of  judgment,  and  a  desire  of  making  everybody 
happy  that  is  about  her,  which  all  the  world  can 
see  in  you,  but  yourself,  you  would  then  pardon  my 
forwardness  in  desiring  to  keep  up  a  correspondence. 
...  If  I  am  free  from  any  vice,  I  think  it  is  that  of 
ingratitude."  l 

1  Sundon  Correspondence.     The  Bishop  of  Killala  to  Mrs.  Clayton, 
Dublin,  iyth  April,  1731. 


Bishop  Clayton's  view  of  the  rules  that  should 
govern  ecclesiastical  preferment  are  worth  quoting. 
The  particular  candidate  he  was  recommending  was 
a  son  of  the  Earl  of  Abercorn,  who  had  taken  holy 
orders.  "  What  occurs  to  me  at  present,"  he  writes  ta 
Mrs.  Clayton,  "  is  the  consideration  of  ecclesiastical 
preferments  in  a  political  view.  It  has  not  been 
customary  for  persons  either  of  birth  or  fortune,  to 
breed  up  their  children  to  the  Church,  by  which 
means,  when  preferment  in  the  Church  is  given  by 
their  Majesties,  there  is  seldom  any  one  obliged 
but  the  very  person  to  whom  it  is  given,  having  no 
relatives  either  in  the  House  of  Lords  or  Commons 
that  are  gratified  or  are  kept  in  dependence  there- 
by. The  only  way  to  remedy  which  is  by  giving 
extraordinary  encouragements  to  persons  of  birth 
and  interest  whenever  they  seek  for  ecclesiastical 
preferment,  which  will  encourage  others  of  the  same 
quality  to  come  into  the  Church,  and  may  thereby 
render  ecclesiastical  preferments  of  the  same  use  to 
their  Majesties  as  civil  employments."1  Of  the 
higher  interests  of  the  Church  or  of  religion,  it  will 
be  noted,  this  servile  prelate  makes  no  mention  ; 
but  the  fear  of  the  world  and  the  bedchamber 
woman  was  always  before  his  eyes. 

Mrs.  Clayton  had  a  large  number  of  poor  and 
obscure  relatives,  many  of  whom  benefited  at  the 
expense  of  the  Church.  One  of  her  nieces,  Dorothy 
Dyves,  whom  she  had  made  a  maid  of  honour  to 
the  Princess  Royal,  fell  in  love  with  the  Princess's 

1  Ibid.,  igth  March,  1730. 


young  chaplain,  the  Reverend  Charles  Chevenix,  who 
was  not  unmindful  of  the  avenues  to  preferment  thus 
opened  to  him.  Mrs.  Clayton  at  first  refused  her 
consent  :  she  did  not  consider  a  poor  chaplain  good 
enough  for  her  niece,  but  Chevenix  made  the 
following  appeal  to  her  :  — 

"  My  salary  as  chaplain  to  her  Royal  Highness 
will,  I  hope,  be  thought  a  reasonable  earnest  of 
some  future  preferment,  and,  could  I  ever  be  happy 
enough  to  obtain  your  protection,  I  might  flatter 
myself  that  I  should  one  day  owe  to  your  goodness 
what  I  can  never  expect  from  my  own  merit — such 
a  competency  of  fortune  as  may  make  Miss  Dyves's 
choice  a  little  less  unequal.  My  birth,  I  may  venture 
to  add,  is  that  of  a  gentleman.  My  father  long 
served,  and  at  last  was  killed,  in  a  post  where  he 
was  very  well  known — a  post  that  is  oftener  an 
annual  subsistence  than  a  large  provision  for  a  family, 
and  that  small  provision  was  unfortunately  lost  in 
the  year  '20.  One  of  my  brothers  is  now  in  the 
army,  a  profession  not  thought  below  people  of  the 
first  rank  ;  another,  indeed,  keeps  a  shop,  but  I  hope 
that  circumstance  rather  deserves  compassion  than 

Mrs.  Clayton  was  touched  by  the  frankness  of 
,this  appeal,  but  the  shop  remained  an  obstacle  for 
some  time.  At  last  she  gave  her  consent.  Chevenix 
married  Dorothy  Dyves,  and  then  it  was  only  a 
question  of  a  little  time  for  the  chaplain  to  blossom 

1Sundon  Correspondence.    The   Rev.   Charles  Chevenix  to  Lady 
Sundon,  London,  24th  November,  1734. 


into  a  bishop.  He  was  in  due  course  advanced  to 
the  see  of  Killaloe,  and  afterwards  to  the  richer  one 
of  Waterford.  Truly  Mrs.  Clayton  was,  as  her 
niece  describes  her,  one  of  the  most  "  worthy  and 
generous  of  aunts  ".  No  one  could  be  more  mindful 
of  family  claims.  Her  patronage  was  not  entirely 
ecclesiastical,  though  she  made  the  Church  her 
speciality ;  she  found  for  her  brother-in-law  a  com- 
fortable post  in  the  civil  service  ;  she  obtained  for 
her  nephews  good  military  and  civil  appointments, 
and  her  nieces  were  all  made  maids  of  honour. 
Lord  Pembroke  sent  her  a  valuable  present — a 
marble  table — and  obtained  something  for  a  poor 
relative.  Lord  Pomfret  gave  her  a  pair  of  diamond 
ear-rings,  worth  ,£1,400;  a  very  good  investment, 
for  he  got  in  return  the  lucrative  appointment  of 
Master  of  the  Horse.  Mrs.  Clayton,  or  Lady  Sundon 
as  she  had  then  become,  was  very  proud  of  these 
diamond  ear-rings,  and  appeared  with  them  at  one 
of  the  Queen's  drawing-rooms.  This  roused  the 
ire  of  old  Sarah,  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  who  had 
once  filled  a  similar  position  with  Queen  Anne. 
"  How  can  that  woman,"  said  Duchess  Sarah  in  a 
loud  voice,  so  that  all  around  might  hear,  "  how 
can  that  woman  have  the  impudence  to  go  about 
with  that  bribe  in  her  ear  ? "  "  Madam,"  replied 
Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  who  was  standing 
by,  "  how  can  people  know  where  there  is  wine  to 
be  sold,  unless  there  is  a  sign  hung  out  ? " 

It    can    well    be    imagined    that    a   system    of 
ecclesiastical  patronage  conducted  on  these  lines  did 


not  result  in  advantage  to  the  Church.  Walpole 
appointed  bishops  for  purely  political  reasons,  Mrs. 
Clayton  for  monetary  and  family  consideration, 
the  Queen  because  their  views  coincided  with  her 
own.  Yet  the  Queen,  though  sometimes  misled  by 
her  favourites,  who  traded  on  her  ignorance  of  the 
English  Church,  honestly  tried  to  appoint  the  best 
men  according  to  her  lights.  The  learning  and 
ability  of  her  bishops  were  undeniable ;  their  only 
drawback  was  that  they  did  not  believe  in  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church  of  which  they  were  ap- 
pointed the  chief  pastors.  Without  entering  into 
theological  controversy,  it  may  be  safely  laid 
down  that  those  who  direct  an  institution  ought 
to  believe  in  the  institution  itself.  This  is  pre- 
cisely what  most  of  Caroline's  bishops  did  not  do ; 
their  energies  were  directed  into  other  channels, 
and  their  enthusiasms  reserved  for  other  pursuits. 
Some  of  her  bishops,  notably  those  who  were 
appointed  to  sees  in  Ireland  and  Wales,  never  went 
near  their  dioceses  at  all,  while  others  treated  the 
cardinal  doctrines  of  Christianity  with  tacit  con- 
tempt, if  not  open  unbelief.  The  indifference  of  the 
bishops  filtered  down  through  the  lower  ranks  of 
the  clergy,  and  gradually  influenced  the  whole  tone 
of  the  established  Church  ;  if  the  bishops  would 
not  do  their  duty  they  could  hardly  blame  their  clergy 
for  failing  in  theirs.  Moreover,  the  policy  of  the 
Whig  Government,  in  packing  the  Episcopal  Bench 
solely  with  its  own  partisans,  resulted  in  the  bishops 
being  out  of  touch  with  their  clergy,  for  the  majority 


of  the  parsons,  especially  in  the  country  districts,  were 
Tory,  and  clung  to  their  political  faith  as  firmly  as 
to  their  religious  convictions. 

At  no  period  of  her  history  has  the  Church  of 
England  been  in  greater  danger  than  she  was 
from  her  own  bishops  and  clergy  in  the  reign 
of  George  the  Second.  On  the  one  hand  was  a 
party  embittered  by  defeat,  shut  out  from  all  hope 
of  preferment,  and  inflamed  by  a  spirit  of  intoler- 
ance in  things  political  and  ecclesiastical ;  on  the 
other  was  a  party  just  as  intolerant  in  reality,  but 
hiding  its  intolerance  under  the  cloak  of  broad  and 
liberal  views,  and  with  leaders  using  the  intellect 
and  learning  they  undoubtedly  possessed,  to  sub- 
vert, or  at  least  to  set  aside,  the  doctrines  of  the 
Church  they  had  sworn  to  believe.  Indifference  in 
practice  quickly  succeeded  indifference  in  belief,  and 
herefrom  may  be  traced  most  of  the  ills  which 
afflicted  the  Church  of  England  during  the  eighteenth 
century.  It  was  no  wonder,  when  the  established 
Church  was  spiritually  dead,  that  earnest-minded  men, 
disgusted  at  this  condition  of  things,  and  hopeless 
of  remedying  it,  set  up  religious  bodies  of  their 
own.  The  growth  of  Methodism  in  the  eighteenth 
century  was  directly  due  to  the  shortcomings  of  the 
Church,  which  had  lost  its  hold  on  the  masses 
of  the  people.  The  year  after  Queen  Caroline's 
death,  in  1738,  John  Wesley  returned  from  Georgia, 
and,  aided  by  his  brother  Charles,  began  the  mission 
which  was  attended  with  such  marvellous  results. 
True,  the  Wesleys,  in  words  at  least,  never  wavered 

From  a  Painting  by  Mrs.  Hoadly  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery. 


in  their  adherence  to  the  Church  of  England,  but  the 
discouragement  they  met  with  from  the  bishops  and 
the  often  ill-directed  zeal  of  their  followers  led  in 
time  to  the  inevitable  separation,  which  was  followed 
later  by  schisms  among  the  Methodists  themselves. 
One  of  the  most  typical  of  the  Georgian  bishops 
was  Hoadley,  who  became  successively  Bishop  of 
Bangor,  Hereford,  Salisbury  and  Winchester,  "cring- 
ing from  bishopric  to  bishopric  ".  Hoadley's  career 
was  a  striking  illustration  of  the  superiority  of  mind 
over  body.  When  he  was  an  undergraduate  at 
Cambridge  he  had  an  illness  which  crippled  him 
for  life ;  he  was  obliged  to  walk  with  a  crutch,  and 
had  to  preach  in  a  kneeling  posture.  His  appear- 
ance was  exceedingly  unprepossessing,  but  he  com- 
pletely overcame  these  natural  disadvantages  by 
the  sheer  force  of  his  will.  He  had  taken  up  the 
Church  as  a  profession,  and  from  the  professional 
point  of  view  he  certainly  succeeded  in  it ;  but 
he  does  not  seem  to  have  believed  in  the  teaching 
of  the  Church  whose  principles  he  had  nominally 
accepted.  He  was  a  conformist  simply  because  it 
paid  him  to  conform.  Even  a  favourable  biographer 
writes  :  "So  far  indeed  was  Hoadley  from  adhering 
strictly  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  that  it  is  a 
little  to  be  wondered  at  on  what  principles  he  con- 
tinued throughout  life  to  profess  conformity  ". 

Hoadley  early  threw  in  his  lot  with  the  Whig 
party,  and  in  Queen  Anne's  reign  was  looked  upon  as 
the  leader  of  the  Low  Church  divines,  and  a  staunch 
upholder  of  Whig  principles.  He  did  not  obtain  any 


considerable  preferment  until  George  the  First  came 
to  the  throne,  when  he  was  made  a  royal  chaplain, 
and  soon  after  advanced  to  the  bishopric  of  Bangor. 
He  did  not  once  visit  his  bishopric  during  the  whole 
of  his  six  years  tenure  of  the  see,  but  remained 
in  London,  as  the  leader  of  the  extreme  latitudin- 
arian  party,  which,  since  the  Princess  of  Wales's 
patronage,  had  become  the  fashionable  one,  and 
offered  the  best  prospects  of  promotion.  He  there- 
fore broke  with  the  orthodox  section  of  the  Low 
Church  party,  who  came  to  regard  him  with  little 
less  dislike  than  High  Churchmen.  Hoadley's  love 
of  polemics  soon  brought  him  into  conflict  with 
Convocation,  and  led  to  what  was  known  as  the 
"Bangorian  controversy".  The  bishop  had  preached 
a  sermon  before  King  George  the  First  on  "  The 
nature  of  the  Kingdom  or  Church  of  Christ,"  in  which 
he  denied  that  there  was  any  such  thing  as  a  visible 
Church  of  Christ,  or  Church  authority.  Convocation 
censured  the  sermon,  and  would  have  proceeded  to 
further  measures  against  the  recalcitrant  bishop 
had  not  the  Government,  by  an  arbitrary  exercise 
of  power,  suspended  it  altogether.  Convocation 
thus  prorogued  was  not  summoned  again  until  the 
middle  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria.  It  would 
weary  and  not  edify  to  enter  into  the  details  of  this 
dreary  Bangorian  controversy  ;  the  tracts  and  pam- 
phlets written  upon  it  numbered  nearly  two  hundred, 
and  the  heat  and  bitterness  were  such  as  only  a 
religious  dispute  could  engender. 

Hoadley  did  not  heed  his  ecclesiastical  enemies, 


for  he  had  staunch  friends  at  court ;  he  enjoyed  not 
only  the  favour  of  the  King  and  the  Princess  of 
Wales,  but  had  the  ear  of  Mrs.  Clayton,  soon  to 
become  a  dispenser  of  patronage.  His  letters  to 
her  are  some  of  the  most  fulsome  preserved  in  her 
correspondence.  "  I  compare  you  in  my  thoughts," 
he  writes,  "with  others  of  the  same  kind,  and  I 
see  with  pleasure,  so  great  a  superiority  to  the 
many,  that  I  think  I  can  hardly  express  my  sense 
of  it  strongly  enough.  Compared  with  them  there- 
fore, I  may  justly  speak  of  you  as  one  of  the 
superior  species,  and  you  will  supply  the  comparison 
if  I  do  not  always  express  it,  and  not  think  me 
capable  of  offering  incense,  which  I  know  you  are 
not  capable  of  receiving."  l 

In  1721  Hoadley  was  translated  from  Bangor  to 
the  richer  see  of  Hereford,  and  two  years  later  to 
Salisbury,  which  was  wealthier  still.  At  Salisbury  he 
so  far  remembered  his  episcopal  duties  as  to  deliver  a 
primary  charge  to  his  clergy,  a  poor  composition.  He 
was  not  content  with  Salisbury,  and  cast  envious  eyes 
upon  the  rich  see  of  Durham,  which  then  main- 
tained a  prince-bishop.  Walpole,  who  disliked  him 
as  being  a  prottgt  of  Mrs.  Clayton's,  passed  him 
over  in  favour  of  Dr.  Talbot,  Bishop  of  Oxford. 

Hoadley  owed  much  of  his  influence  with  the 
Whig  party  to  the  fact  that  he  had  always  shown  him- 
self very  friendly  to  Dissenters,  and  was  in  favour  of 
abolishing  the  iniquitous  Test  and  Corporation  Acts 

lSundon  Correspondence.  Bishop  Hoadley  to  Mrs.  Clayton  [un- 

VOL.   II.  1 6 


and  other  disabilities  under  which  they  laboured ; 
the  animosity  of  his  enemies  arose  quite  as  much 
from  this  fact  as  from  their  dislike  of  his  opinions. 
The  Protestant  Nonconformists  were  the  backbone  of 
the  Whig  party,  and  the  staunchest  supporters  of  the 
House  of  Hanover ;  they  therefore,  not  unnaturally, 
expected,  in  return  for  their  great  political  services, 
that  the  disabilities  which  pressed  upon  them  should 
be  removed.     From  time  to  time  they  gained  certain 
points,  and  the  Acts  were  rendered  practically  inno- 
cuous by  annual  indemnities ;  but  still  they  disfigured 
the  Statute  Book,  and  to  this  the  Dissenters  rightly 
objected.      In  1730  a  determined  attempt  was  made 
by  the    Dissenters   throughout  England  to  secure 
the  repeal  of  the  Corporation  and  Test  Acts,  and 
they    resolved   to    present   a    monster    petition    to 
Parliament  praying  that  the  matter  should  be  pro- 
ceeded with  forthwith.     This  action  put  the  Govern- 
ment into  a  position  of  considerable  difficulty,  and 
it   was    entirely   opposed    to    Walpole's    policy   of 
letting   sleeping   dogs   lie.     Though    both   he   and 
the  Queen    (we    will    leave   the    King   out   of  the 
question,  as  he  does  not  count)  had  the  fullest  sym- 
pathy with  the  aspirations  of  Dissenters ;  yet  they 
saw  that  to  raise  this  question  at  the  present  time 
would  be  to  fan  the  smouldering  embers  of  religious 
controversy,  and  would  put  new  heart  and  strength 
into  the  Opposition.     The  clergy  of  the  established 
Church,  almost  to  a  man,  would  be  against  them,  and, 
with  a  general  election  impending,  that  would  mean 
that  the  Government  would  have  an  active  enemy  in 


every  parish  and  hamlet  in  the  kingdom.  Such  a 
reform,  though  just  and  reasonable  in  itself,  would 
have  the  effect  of  alienating  a  number  of  the  Govern- 
ment's lukewarm  supporters,  and  would  give  an 
opportunity  for  the  Roman  Catholics  to  assert  them- 
selves and  claim  relief  also,  for  they  were  far  more 
cruelly  oppressed  than  the  Protestant  Dissenters. 

Walpole  knew  that  Hoadley  had  influence  with 
the  Dissenters,  and  he  and  the  Queen  talked  it 
over,  and  resolved  to  ask  Hoadley  to  see  the  heads 
of  the  dissenting  party  and  endeavour  to  persuade 
them  not  to  bring  forward  their  petition.  As  Wal- 
pole had  given  offence  to  Hoadley  by  refusing  him 
Durham,  the  Queen  undertook  this  delicate  mission. 
She  sent  for  the  bishop,  and  used  all  her  eloquence 
to  bring  him  round  to  her  way  of  thinking.  She 
dwelt  on  her  admiration  of  his  principles  and 
writings ;  she  said  it  was  in  his  power  to  be 
of  great  use  to  the  Government,  and  to  place  her, 
the  Queen,  under  a  personal  debt  of  gratitude, 
which  she  would  be  slow  to  forget.  She  pointed 
out  the  danger  that  would  arise  from  the 
religious  question  being  raised  at  the  present 
time,  and  she  therefore  desired  him  to  ask  the 
Dissenters  to  postpone  their  request.  Hoadley 
demurred  a  good  deal,  possibly  because  the  hint 
of  promotion  was  not  definite  enough,  and  pointed 
out  that  as  he  had  always  urged  the  repeal  of  the 
offending  Acts,  he  could  hardly  turn  round  now 
and  eat  his  words.  But  he  said  he  would  feel  the 
popular  pulse,  and  if  it  appeared  that  the  present 


was  an  inopportune  moment  for  raising  the  question, 
he  would  endeavour  to  persuade  the  Dissenters  to 
postpone  it  to  a  more  convenient  season. 

Soon  after  this  interview  a  report  was  promul- 
gated by  Walpole  to  the  effect  that  "the  Queen 
had  sent  for  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  and  convinced 
him  that  this  request  of  the  Dissenters  was  so 
unreasonable  that  he  had  promised  her  not  to 
support  it ".  This  report  had  the  very  opposite 
effect  to  what  was  intended.  It  caused  the 
Dissenters  to  be  suspicious  of  their  friend,  and 
consequently  tended  to  nullify  any  advice  he  might 
give  them.  The  bishop  went  to  Walpole  in  a  rage 
and  said  he  could  be  of  no  service  in  the  matter 
whatever,  and  that  so  far  from  persuading  the  Dis- 
senters from  bringing  forward  their  petition,  he 
should  now  encourage  them  to  do  so.  Walpole 
tried  to  soothe  Hoadley  by  fair  words,  but  finding 
him  not  amenable  to  them,  he  gave  him  a  strong 
hint  that  if  he  persisted  in  his  intention,  he  would 
ruin  any  chances  of  promotion  he  might  have  from 
the  Government  or  the  Queen.  This  brought  the 
bishop  to  his  bearings ;  he  had  more  conferences 
with  the  Queen  on  the  subject,  and  was  ultimately 
bought  over  to  complaisance  by  the  promise  of  the 
next  reversion  of  the  see  of  Winchester.  The  Dis- 
senters fell  into  a  trap.  From  all  over  England  they 
sent  delegates  to  London,  who  on  their  part  entrusted 
the  negotiations  with  the  Government  to  a  committee 
of  London  Nonconformists.  As  this  committee  was 
composed  of  tradesmen  in  the  City,  or  lawyers  eager 


for  promotion,  Walpole  was  able  to  buy  them  over 
singly  and  collectively,  and  so,  betrayed  by  the 
bishop  and  their  delegates,  the  Dissenters  went  to 
the  wall. 

Hoadley  had  the  misfortune  to  please  neither  the 
Government  nor  the  Dissenters,  for  neither  trusted 
him  ;  but  he  probably  did  not  mind,  as  he  received 
what  he  worked  for — the  see  of  Winchester.  Soon 
after  his  translation  to  Winchester  he  proceeded,  after 
the  approved  fashion  of  Mrs.  Clayton's  favourites,  to 
show  his  independence  and  disburden  his  soul,  by 
publishing  a  pamphlet  called  A  Plain  Account  of  the 
Nature  and  End  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lords 
Supper.  This  set  the  clergy  by  the  ears,  and  they 
promptly  started  a  heresy  hunt,  to  the  great  discom- 
fiture of  the  Government  responsible  for  Hoadley's 

An  answer  was  written  to  the  pamphlet  by  Dr. 
Brett,  in  which  Hoadley  was  attacked  with  violence 
and  bitterness.  The  King,  who  objected  to  Hoad- 
ley, asked  the  Queen  what  she  thought  of  Brett's 
answer,  which  he  had  much  enjoyed  reading, 
not  because  of  the  nature  of  the  controversy,  for 
which  he  cared  little,  but  because  of  the  personal 
abuse  of  a  prelate  whom  he  disliked.  The  Queen, 
who  was  very  much  annoyed  at  Hoadley's  in- 
discretion, however  much  she  might  agree  with 
his  opinions,  began  to  explain  her  views  on  the 
subject  of  the  controversy.  But  the  King  cut 
her  short  testily,  and  told  her,  "  She  always  loved 
talking  of  such  nonsense  and  things  she  knew 


nothing  of;"  adding,  that  "  if  it  were  not  for  such 
foolish  persons  loving  to  talk  of  those  things  when 
they  were  written,  the  fools  who  wrote  upon  them 
would  never  think  of  publishing  their  nonsense,  and 
disturbing  the  Government  with  impertinent  dis- 
putes that  nobody  of  any  sense  ever  troubled 
himself  about."  Walpole  had  evidently  entered  his 
protest  too,  aimed  not  only  at  Hoadley  but  at  Mrs. 
Clayton.  The  Queen,  who  made  it  a  rule  never 
to  oppose  her  liege  in  anything,  bowed  assent  and 
saicl  :  "  Sir,  I  only  did  it  to  let  Lord  Hervey  know 
that  his  friend's  book  had  not  met  with  that  general 
approbation  he  had  pretended  ". 

"  A  pretty  fellow  for  a  friend,"  said  the  King, 
turning  to  Hervey,  who  was  standing  by.  "  Pray, 
what  is  it  that  charms  you  in  him  ?  His  pretty 
limping  gait  ? "  (and  then  he  acted  the  bishop's 
lameness)  "  or  his  nasty,  stinking  breath  ? — phaugh  ! 
— or  his  silly  laugh,  when  he  grins  in  your  face 
for  nothing,  and  shows  his  nasty  rotten  teeth  ? 
Or  is  it  his  great  honesty  that  charms  your  lord- 
ship— his  asking  a  thing  of  me  for  one  man,  and, 
when  he  came  to  have  it  in  his  own  power  to 
bestow,  refusing  the  Queen  to  give  it  to  the  very 
man  for  whom  he  had  asked  it  ?  Or  do  you 
admire  his  conscience  that  makes  him  now  put 
out  a  book  that,  till  he  was  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
for  fear  his  conscience  might  hurt  his  preferment, 
he  kept  locked  up  in  his  chest  ?  Is  his  conscience 
so  much  improved  beyond  what  it  was  when  he 
was  Bishop  of  Bangor,  or  Hereford,  or  Salisbury 


(for  this  book,  I  hear,  was  written  so  long  ago)  ? 
Or  was  it  that  he  would  risk  losing  a  shilling 
a-year  more  whilst  there  was  nothing  better  to 
be  got  than  what  he  had  ?  My  lord,  I  am  very 
sorry  you  choose  your  friends  so  ill ;  but  I  cannot 
help  saying,  if  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  is  your 
friend,  you  have  a  great  puppy  and  a  very  dull 
fellow,  and  a  great  rascal  for  your  friend.  It  is  a 
very  pretty  thing  for  such  scoundrels,  when  they 
are  raised  by  favour  so  much  above  their  desert,  to 
be  talking  and  writing  their  stuff,  to  give  trouble  to 
the  Government  that  has  shown  them  that  favour ; 
and  very  modest,  and  a  canting  hypocritical  knave 
to  be  crying,  '  The  Kingdom  of  Christ  is  not  of  this 
world?  at  the  same  time  that  he,  as  Christ's  am- 
bassador receives  .£6,000  or  .£7,000  a  year.  But 
he  is  just  the  same  thing  in  the  Church  that  he  is  in 
the  Government,  and  as  ready  to  receive  the  best 
pay  for  preaching  the  Bible,  though  he  does  not 
believe  a  word  of  it,  as  he  is  to  take  favours  from 
the  Crown,  though,  by  his  republican  spirit  and 
doctrine,  he  would  be  glad  to  abolish  its  power." * 

Having  delivered  himself  of  this  lengthy  exor- 
dium, the  King  stopped  and  looked  at  the  Queen, 
as  much  as  to  say  who  dare  gainsay  him.  She  had 
not  been  able  to  get  a  word  in  edgeways,  but  by 
smiling  and  nodding  she  tried  to  signify  her  approval 
of  everything  her  lord  and  master  said. 

This  is  the  only  instance  on  record  we  have  of 
the  King's  direct  interest  in  ecclesiastical  affairs,  for, 

1  Hervey's  Memoirs. 


during  the  Queen's  lifetime,  Church  patronage  re- 
mained in  her  hands,  and  even  after  her  death  her 
expressed  wishes  were  carried  out.  But  when  all 
these  were  fulfilled,  many  aspiring  divines,  since  the 
Queen  and  Lady  Sundon  were  no  longer  available, 
paid  their  court  to  the  King's  mistress,  Madame  de 
Walmoden,  afterwards  Countess  of  Yarmouth,  and, 
for  the  rest  of  George  the  Second's  reign,  the  royal 
road  to  bishoprics  ran  through  the  apartments  of  the 




SOON  after  the  withdrawal  of  the  excise  scheme 
the  King  sent  a  message  to  Parliament  with  the 
news  that  his  eldest  daughter,  the  Princess  Royal, 
was  betrothed  to  the  Prince  of  Orange.  The  match 
was  not  a  brilliant  one,  for  the  Prince  was  deformed, 
not  of  royal  rank,  and  miserably  poor.  But  the 
"  Prince  of  Orange  "  was  still  a  name  to  be  conjured 
with  among  the  Whigs  and  the  Protestant  supporters 
of  the  dynasty  generally,  and  the  announcement 
was  popular,  as  a  further  guarantee  of  the  Protestant 
succession.  The  Government  regained  some  of  the 
credit  they  had  lost  over  the  excise  scheme  and 
Parliament  willingly  voted  the  Princess  a  dower  of 
^80,000,  which  was  double  the  sum  ever  given 
before  to  a  princess  of  the  blood  royal. 

The  Princess  Royal  had  no  affection  for  her  be- 
trothed, whom  she  had  never  even  seen,  but  she  was 
exceedingly  anxious  to  be  married.  It  was  said  at 
court  that  the  King  of  France  had  once  enter- 
tained the  idea  of  asking  her  hand  in  marriage  for 
the  Dauphin,  but  her  grandfather,  George  the  First, 


would  not  listen  to  it  on  account  of  the  difference  of 
religion.  There  was  no  evidence  to  support  this 
story,  and  it  was  certain  that  since  George  the  Second 
had  ascended  the  throne  no  suitor  of  any  importance 
had  come  forward  ;  so  that,  despite  his  drawbacks, 
the  Prince  of  Orange  was  the  best  husband  that 
could  be  got.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  though  it  were 
a  choice  between  him  and  no  husband  at  all.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  was  exceedingly  indignant  with  his 
sister  for  getting  married  before  him,  and  so  obtain- 
ing a  separate  establishment,  a  thing  for  which  he 
had  hitherto  asked  in  vain.  He  need  not  have 
envied  her,  for  she  was  making  a  match  that  would 
satisfy  neither  her  love  nor  her  ambition. 

The  Queen  showed  no  enthusiasm  for  the  mar- 
riage, and  the  negotiations  were  unduly  prolonged. 
Months  passed  before  everything  was  settled,  and  it 
was  November  before  the  Prince  of  Orange  set  out 
for  England  and  his  intended  bride.  A  royal  yacht 
was  sent  to  escort  him  to  English  shores,  and, 
according  to  a  journal :  "  The  person  who  brought 
the  first  news  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  being  seen 
off  Margate  was  one  who  kept  a  public  house  there  ; 
who,  upon  seeing  the  yacht,  immediately  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  to  Canterbury,  where  he  took 
post  horses  and  came  to  St.  James's  at  eleven 
o'clock  on  Monday  night.  Her  Majesty  ordered 
him  twenty  guineas  and  Sir  Robert  Walpole  five. 
Twenty  he  hath  since  laid  out  on  a  silver  tankard, 
on  which  his  Majesty's  arms  are  engraved."1 

1  Daily  Journal,  8th  November,  1733. 


Probably  this  messenger  was  the  only  person 
who  had  reason  to  rejoice  at  the  arrival  of  the  Prince 
of  Orange.  The  Prince  was  lodged  in  Somerset 
House,  and  many  of  the  nobility  went  to  wait  upon 
him  there,  hoping  by  paying  him  their  court  to 
please  the  King.  They  little  knew  that  the  King 
and  Queen  were  in  their  hearts  opposed  to  the 
match,  and  had  only  yielded  to  it  from  political 
exigencies,  and  the  impossibility  of  finding  any  other 
suitable  suitor  for  their  daughter.  The  Queen  sent 
Lord  Hervey  to  Somerset  House  with  orders  to 
come  back  and  tell  her  "  without  disguise  what  sort 
of  hideous  animal  she  was  to  prepare  herself  to  see  ". 
The  Prince  was  not  nearly  so  bad  as  he  had  been 
painted,  for  though  he  was  deformed,  he  had  a 
pleasant  and  engaging  manner.  The  Queen  seemed 
more  interested  in  the  appearance  of  the  future 
bridegroom  than  the  bride  herself,  for  the  Princess 
Royal,  when  she  heard  of  the  arrival  of  her  lover, 
continued  playing  the  harpsichord  with  some  of  the 
opera  people  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
"  For  my  part,"  said  the  Queen,  "  I  never  said 
the  least  word  to  encourage  her  in  this  marriage 
or  to  dissuade  her  from  it."  The  King,  too,  left 
the  Princess  at  liberty,  but  as  she  was  determined 
to  marry  some  one,  and  as  the  Prince,  though  not  a 
crowned  King,  was  the  head  of  a  petty  state,  she  said 
that  she  was  willing  to  marry  him.1  The  King  then 
remembered  his  duty  as  a  father,  and  not  too  nicely 

1  The  Prince  of  Orange  was  hereditary  Stadtholder  of  Friesland, 
and  Stadtholder  by  election  of  Groningen  and  Guelderland. 


warned  his  daughter  of  the  Prince's  physical  unattrac- 
tiveness,  but  she  said  she  was  resolved,  if  he  were 
a  baboon,  to  marry  him.  "  Well,  then,  marry  him," 
retorted  the  King  in  a  huff,  "and  you'll  have  baboon 
enough  I  warrant  you." 

The  wedding  was  arranged  to  take  place  im- 
mediately after  the  arrival  of  the  bridegroom  elect, 
but  as  ill-luck  would  have  it  the  Prince  fell  sick  of 
a  fever,  and  for  some  months  lay  dangerously  ill. 
During  the  whole  time  of  his  sickness  none  of  the 
Royal  Family  went  to  visit  him,  or  took  any  notice  of 
him,  by  command  of  the  King,  who  wished  to  inculcate 
the  doctrine  that  before  his  marriage  to  the  Princess 
the  Prince  of  Orange  was  nobody,  and  could  only 
become  somebody  through  alliance  with  the  Royal 
Family.  The  Prince,  though  he  must  have  felt  this 
neglect,  behaved  with  great  good  sense,  and  as  soon 
as  he  was  able  to  go  out,  he  went  to  St.  James's 
Palace  to  pay  his  respects  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
He  had  an  interview  with  his  future  bride,  and 
stayed  to  dinner  with  the  princesses  informally. 
When  the  King  heard  of  it  he  was  very  angry, 
and  forbade  them  to  receive  him  any  more  without 
his  permission.  The  occasion  did  not  arise,  for  a 
few  days  later  the  Prince  of  Orange  went  to  Bath 
for  a  cure,  and  did  not  return  to  London  until  a 
fortnight  before  his  wedding. 

The  marriage  took  place  on  March  I4th,  1734. 
The  Princess  Royal,  who  had  maintained  an  im- 
passive front  throughout  her  engagement,  neither 
evincing  pleasure  at  the  Prince's  arrival,  nor  sorrow 


at  his  illness,  showed  the  same  impassive  demeanour 
at  her  wedding.  The  ceremony  took  place  at  night 
in  the  Chapel  Royal,  St.  James's.  A  covered  gallery 
of  wood  was  built  outside,  through  which  the  pro- 
cession had  to  pass.  This  gallery  gave  great  offence 
to  old  Sarah,  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  who  could 
see  it  from  her  windows  of  Marlborough  House. 
It  had  been  erected  when  the  wedding  was  first 
settled  to  take  place,  four  months  before,  and  she 
was  indignant  at  its  being  left  standing  so  long. 
"I  wonder,"  she  said,  "when  neighbour  George 
will  remove  his  orange  chest."  On  the  night  of 
the  wedding,  the  "  orange  chest "  was  illuminated 
from  end  to  end,  and  accommodated  four  thousand 
people  who  were  favoured  with  tickets  to  see  the 
processions  pass.  At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening 
the  bridegroom  with  his  attendants  was  waiting  in 
the  great  council  chamber  of  St.  James's,  the  bride 
with  her  ladies  was  ready  in  the  great  drawing-room, 
and  the  King  and  Queen,  with  the  rest  of  the  Royal 
Family  were  assembled  in  the  smaller  drawing-room. 
Three  processions  were  then  marshalled,  that  of  the 
bridegroom,  that  of  the  bride,  and  that  of  the  King 
and  Queen.  The  Chapel  Royal  was  upholstered 
for  the  occasion  more  like  a  theatre  than  a  place 
of  worship,  being  hung  with  velvet,  gold  and  silver 
tissue,  fringes,  tassels,  gilt  lustres,  and  so  forth. 
The  Prince  of  Orange  was  magnificently  clad  in 
gold  and  silver,  and  as  he  wore  a  long  wig  that 
flowed  down  his  back  and  concealed  his  figure, 
he  made  a  more  presentable  appearance  than  was 


expected.  The  Princess  Royal  was  also  gorgeously 
attired  ;  she  wore  a  robe  of  silver  tissue,  and  her 
ornaments  included  a  necklace  of  twenty-two  im- 
mense diamonds ;  her  train,  which  was  six  yards 
long,  was  supported  by  ten  bridesmaids,  the  daugh- 
ters of  dukes  and  earls,  who  were  also  clad  in  silver 
tissue.  The  Queen  and  her  younger  daughters 
were  visibly  affected  during  the  ceremony,  and  could 
not  restrain  their  tears  at  the  sacrifice  they  considered 
the  Princess  was  making.  The  King,  who  had  shown 
himself  very  restive  before  the  wedding,  behaved  very 
well  on  the  day,  but  the  Prince  of  Wales,  though  he 
was  tolerably  civil  to  the  bridegroom,  could  not 
bring  himself  to  be  cordial  to  the  bride. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  the  Prince  and  Princess  of 
Orange  supped  in  public  with  the  Royal  Family,  and 
after  the  banquet,  which  lasted  two  hours,  came  the 
most  curious  part  of  the  ceremony.  The  English 
Court  had  borrowed  a  custom  from  Versailles,  and 
a  most  trying  one  it  must  have  been  for  the  bride  and 
bridegroom.  As  soon  as  the  Prince  and  Princess  of 


Orange  had  retired,  the  whole  court  were  admitted  to 
see  them  sitting  up  in  bed — that  is  to  say,  the  courtiers 
passed  through  the  room  and  made  obeisance.  The 
bridegroom,  now  that  he  had  doffed  his  fine  clothes 
and  peruke,  did  not  look  his  best,  but  the  bride 
maintained  her  self-possession,  even  under  this 
ordeal.  Referring  next  morning  to  the  sight  of  the 
princely  pair  in  bed,  the  Queen  exclaimed :  "  Ah ! 
mon  Dieu !  quand  je  voiois  entrer  ce  monstre 
pour  coucher  avec  ma  fille,  j'ai  pens6  m'evanouir ; 


je    chancelois    auparavant,    mais    ce    coup    la    m'a 

The  Princesses  bewailed  the  fate  of  their  sister 
quite  as  much  as  their  mother.  Princess  Amelia 
declared  that  nothing  on  earth  would  have  induced 
her  to  marry  such  a  monster.  Their  lamentations 
were  wasted.  The  Princess  of  Orange,  to  her 
credit  be  it  said,  determined  to  make  the  best  of 
her  husband,  and  she  behaved  towards  him  in  a 
most  dutiful  manner,  and  made  his  interests  her 

The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange  stayed  in 
England  for  six  weeks  after  their  marriage,  and 
the  Prince  bade  fair  to  become  a  popular  hero.  For 
the  time,  he  quite  outshone  the  Prince  of  Wales 
as  the  idol  of  the  hour.  This  was  very  noticeable 
at  the  theatre  ;  when  the  Prince  of  Wales  came  into 
the  house  he  was  received  with  but  moderate 
applause,  but  the  instant  the  Prince  of  Orange 
appeared  the  whole  theatre  rang  with  shouts  and 
cheers.  The  King,  too,  noticed  these  signs  of 
popular  feeling  and  became  jealous,  and  anxious 
to  send  his  son-in-law  back  to  Holland  as  soon  as 
possible.  The  King  was  exceedingly  unpopular, 
and  the  "  Prince  of  Orange  "  was  an  ominous  name 
in  England  to  a  royal  father-in-law.  The  City  of 
London,  the  University  of  Oxford,  and  many  towns 
presented  addresses  on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage 
of  the  Princess  Royal,  which,  though  couched  in 
complimentary  language,  yet  contained  many  covert 
sarcasms.  They  dwelt  so  much  on  the  services 


rendered  to  England  by  a  Prince  who  bore  the 
name  of  Orange,  and  expressed  so  fervently  the 
hope  that  this  Prince  might  follow  his  great  name- 
sake's example,  that  it  almost  seemed  as  if  they 
wished  him  to  depose  his  father-in-law,  as  William 
of  Orange  had  deposed  King  James.  The  address 
of  the  City  of  London,  for  example,  was  thus  para- 
phrased : — 

Most  gracious  sire  behold  before  you 
Your  prostrate  subjects  that  adore  you — 
The  Mayor  and  citizens  of  London, 
By  loss  of  trade  and  taxes  undone, 
Who  come  with  gratulations  hearty 
Altho'  they're  of  the  Country  Party, 
To  wish  your  Majesty  much  cheer 
On  Anna's  marriage  with  Mynheer. 
Our  hearts  presage,  from  this  alliance, 
The  fairest  hopes,  the  brightest  triumphs  ; 
For  if  one  Revolution  glorious 
Has  made  us  wealthy  and  victorious. 
Another,  by  just  consequence, 
Must  double  both  our  power  and  pence  : 
We  therefore  hope  that  young  Nassau, 
Whom  you  have  chose  your  son-in-law, 
WTill  show  himself  of  William's  stock, 
And  prove  a  chip  of  the  same  block. 

The  King  was  exceedingly  restive  under  these 
historical  parallels,  and  became  more  and  more 
anxious  to  speed  the  parting  guest.  Therefore,  at 
the  end  of  April  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange 
embarked  at  Greenwich  for  Holland.  The  parting 
of  the  Princess  with  her  family  was  most  affecting 
— except  with  her  brother  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who 
did  not  trouble  to  take  leave  of  her  at  all.  Her 
mother  and  sisters  wept  bitterly  over  her,  the  King 

"  gave  her  a  thousand  kisses  and  a  shower  of  tears, 
but  not  one  guinea  ".  Yet,  such  is  human  nature, 
after  a  few  weeks  the  Princess  was  as  much  forgotten 
at  the  English  Court  as  though  she  had  never  existed. 

Another  familiar  figure  disappeared  from  the 
Court  a  few  months  later  (in  November,  1734), 
namely,  Lady  Suffolk,  better  known  as  Mrs. 
Howard.  She  had  often  wished  to  resign  her 
office,  but  her  circumstances  for  one  reason  did  not 
admit  of  her  doing  so,  and  /or  another  the  Queen 
always  persuaded  her  to  remain,  lest  a  younger  and 
less  amenable  lady  might  take  her  place.  The 
King,  who  had  long  since  tired  of  her,  resented  this 
action  on  the  part  of  the  Queen.  "  I  do  not  know," 
he  said,  "  why  you  will  not  let  me  part  with  a  deaf  old 
woman  of  whom  I  am  weary?"  Mrs.  Howard  was 
weary  too,  and  had  come  to  loathe  her  bonds.  But 
what  brought  matters  to  a  crisis  cannot  be  certainly 
stated,  it  was  probably  a  combination  of  events. 

The  year  before,  shortly  after  he  succeeded  to  the 
earldom,  Lord  Suffolk  died,  and  Lady  Suffolk  was 
left  a  widow,  for  which  no  doubt  she  was  devoutly 
thankful.  She  was  now  free  to  marry  again  ;  and  if 
she  did  not  she  possessed  a  moderate  competency, 
which  would  enable  her  to  live  in  a  position  befitting 
her  rank.  Lady  Suffolk  was  friendly  with  many 
members  of  the  Opposition,  including  Bolingbroke, 
who  was  of  all  persons  most  disliked  at  court.  It 
was  said  by  her  enemies  that  she  had  a  political  in- 
trigue with  him,  and  had  met  him  at  Bath.  Coxe  tells 

a  story  which  seems  to  show  that  the  Queen  was  at 
VOL.  n.  17 


the  bottom  of  Lady  Suffolk's  retirement.  "  Lord 
Chesterfield,"  he  says,  "had  requested  the  Queen 
to  speak  to  the  King  for  some  trifling  favour  ;  the 
Queen  promised,  but  forgot  it.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, recollecting  her  promise,  she  expressed 
regret  at  her  forgetfulness,  and  added  she  would 
certainly  mention  it  that  very  day.  Chesterfield 
replied  that  her  Majesty  need  not  give  herself  that 
trouble,  for  Lady  Suffolk  had  spoken  to  the  King. 
The  Queen  made  no  reply,  but  on  seeing  the  King 
told  him  she  had  long  promised  to  mention  a  trifling 
request  to  his  Majesty,  but  it  was  now  needless, 
because  Lord  Chesterfield  had  just  informed  her 
that  she  had  been  anticipated  by  Lady  Suffolk. 
The  King,  who  always  preserved  great  decorum 
with  the  Queen,  and  was  very  unwilling  to  have  it 
supposed  that  the  favourite  interfered,  was  extremely 
displeased  both  with  Lord  Chesterfield  and  his 
mistress.  The  consequence  was  that  in  a  short 
time  Lady  Suffolk  went  to  Bath  for  her  health,  and 
returned  no  more  to  Court." 

It  is  possible  that  some  such  incident  occurred, 
but  it  could  not  have  been  the  immediate  cause 
of  Lady  Suffolk's  retirement,  as  she  held  office 
for  more  than  a  year  after  Lord  Chesterfield  was 
dismissed  in  consequence  of  voting  against  the 
excise.  It  is  true  she  went  to  Bath,  and  probably 
met  Bolingbroke  there  too,  but  it  is  unlikely 
that  she  had  a  political  intrigue  with  him.  On 
her  return  to  court,  the  King  seems  first  to  have 
ignored  her,  and  then  to  have  insulted  her  publicly. 


This  was  the  last  straw,  and  Mrs.  Howard  deter- 
mined to  resign  at  once.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle 
wrote  to  Walpole :  "You  will  see  by  the  news- 
papers that  Lady  Suffolk  has  left  the  Court.  The 
particulars  that  I  had  from  the  Queen  are,  that  last 
week  she  acquainted  the  Queen  with  her  design, 
putting  it  upon  the  King's  unkind  usage  of  her.  The 
Queen  ordered  her  to  stay  a  week,  which  she  did, 
but  last  Monday  had  another  audience,  complained 
again  of  her  unkind  treatment  from  the  King,  was 
very  civil  to  the  Queen,  and  went  that  night  to  her 
brother's  house  in  St.  James's  Square."  * 

The  Duke  of  Newcastle's  statement  is  borne  out 
by  a  curious  manuscript,  entitled  "  Memorandum 
of  the  conversation  between  Queen  Caroline  and 
Lady  Suffolk,  upon  Lady  Suffolk's  retiring  from 
her  Majesty's  service,  1734". 2  This  memorandum 
was  probably  jotted  down  by  Lady  Suffolk  soon 
after  her  interview  with  the  Queen,  and  runs  as 
follows  : — 

Lady  Suffolk:  "  Madam,  I  believe  your  Majesty 
will  think  that  I  have  more  assurance  than  ever 
anybody  had  to  stay  so  long  in  your  family,  after 
the  public  manner  his  Majesty  has  given  me  of  his 
displeasure.  But  I  hope,  when  I  tell  you  that  it 
occasioned  my  not  waiting  sooner  upon  your 
Majesty,  you  will  not  think  it  was  owing  to  assur- 

1  The  Duke  of  Newcastle  to  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  i3th  Novem- 
ber, 1734. 

This  manuscript  is  preserved  in  the  manuscript  department  of 
the  British  Museum. 


ance.  I  have  always  had,  and  I  hope  I  have  always 
shown,  the  greatest  duty  and  attention  for  everything 
that  relates  to  your  Majesty,  and  I  could  not  think 
it  was  proper,  whilst  you  were  so  indisposed,  to 
trouble  you  with  anything  relating  to  me,  but  I  come 
now,  Madam,  to  beg  your  leave  to  retire." 

The  Queen:  "You  surprise  me.  What  do  you 
mean  ?  I  do  not  believe  the  King  is  angry.  When 
has  he  shown  his  displeasure  ?  Did  I  receive  you 
as  if  you  were  under  mine  ?  " 

Lady  Suffolk:  "No,  madam.  If  your  Majesty 
had  treated  me  in  the  same  manner  as  his  Majesty 
did,  I  never  could  have  had  the  assurance  to  appear 
again  in  your  presence." 

The  Queen :  "  Child,  you  dream.  I  saw  the 
King  speak  to  you  ;  I  remember  now." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "  Yes,  madam,  and  his  words 
marked  more  strongly  his  displeasure  than  his 
silence,  before  and  since." 

The  Queen:  "Tell  me,  has  the  King  really 
never  been  down  with  you  since  your  return  ? " 

Lady  Suffolk:  "No,  madam.  Will  your  Ma- 
jesty give  me  leave  to  tell  what  has  passed  ?  .  .  .  " 1 

The  Queen :  "  Upon  my  word  I  did  not  know 

Lady  Suffolk:  "I  hope  you  take  nothing  ill  of 
me  ..." 

The  Queen :  "  Come,  my  dear  Lady  Suffolk,  you 
are  very  warm,  but  believe  me  I  am  your  friend, 
your  best  friend.  You  do  not  know  a  court.  It  is 

1  A  gap  here. 


not  proper  of  me  to  say  this,  but  indeed  you  do  not 
know  a  court." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "I  am  very  sensible  that  I  do 
not,  and  feel  I  do  not ;  I  have  had  a  most  convinc- 
ing proof  that  I  am  ignorant.  But  I  am  afraid, 
madam,  if  I  have  not  got  knowledge  in  twenty 
years  I  never  shall  now." 

The  Queen :  "  Why  don't  you  talk  to  your 
friends  ?  I  always  do  so.  Indeed  you  cannot  judge 
this  for  yourself." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  Madam,  if  twenty  years'  service 
has  not  been  able  to  prevent  me  from  falling  a 
sacrifice  to  my  enemies,  would  your  Majesty  have 
me,  by  calling  in  my  friends,  make  them  answerable 
for  the  measure  I  shall  take,  and  involve  them  in 
my  ruin  ?  " 

The  Queen :  "  Child,  your  enemies  want  to  get 
you  out,  and  they  will  be  the  first  to  drop  you.  Oh  ! 
my  dear  Lady  Suffolk,  you  do  not  know,  when  you 
are  out,  how  different  people  will  behave." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Madam,  the  first  part  of  what 
your  Majesty  says  I  am  very  sure  of,  but  really, 
madam,  I  do  not  understand  the  second  part,  and  if 
some  people  may  show  me  it  was  the  courtier  and 
not  me  that  was  liked,  I  cannot  say  that  to  keep 
such  acquaintances  will  be  any  argument  to  me  to 
stay  at  Court.  Madam,  such  are  better  lost  than 

The  Queen:  "You  are  very  warm." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  Madam,  I  beg  if,  in  talking  to 
your  Majesty,  I  say  one  word  that  does  not  mark 


the  respect  both  to  his  and  your  Majesties,  you  will 
be  pleased  to  tell  me ;  for,  madam,  I  come  fully 
determined  to  take  my  leave,  with  the  same  respect, 
submission  and  duty,  as  I  have  behaved  for  twenty 
years.  Your  Majesty  has  often  told  me  that  I  have 
never  failed  in  anything  for  your  service  in  any  of 
those  places  that  you  have  honoured  me  with. 
Madam,  I  do  not  know  how  far  your  Majesty  may 
think  it  respectful  to  make  this  declaration,  but  I 
beg  that  I  may  for  a  moment  speak  of  the  King 
only  as  a  man  that  was  my  friend.  He  has  been 
dearer  to  me  than  my  own  brother,  so,  madam,  as  a 
friend  I  feel  resentment  at  being  ill-treated,  and 
sorry  to  have  lost  his  friendship  ;  but  as  my  King 
and  my  master  I  have  the  greatest  submission  to  his 
pleasure,  and  wish  I  knew  what  I  was  accused  of, 
for  I  know  my  innocence.  But,  madam,  I  know  it 
must  be  some  horrid  crime." 

The  Queen  :  "  Oh  !  fie !  you  commit  a  crime  ! 
Do  not  talk  so." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  Madam,  as  I  know  his  Majesty's 
goodness,  his  justice,  his  warmth  of  friendship,  I 
know  he  could  not  for  anything  else  punish  me  so 

The  Queen  :  "  I  daresay  that  if  you  have  a  little 
patience  the  King  will  treat  you  as  he  does  the 
other  ladies.  I  suppose  that  would  satisfy  you." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "No,  madam.  Why,  did  you 
never  see  him  show  what  you  call  '  respect '  to  the 

Duchess  of  R and  to  Lady  A ?  Madam, 

I  believe  and  I  hope  they  are  ladies  of  more  merit 


than  I,  and  possibly  in  every  respect  of  greater 
consequence  than  I  am  ;  but  in  this  case  is  very 
different.  They  have  not  lived  twenty  years  con- 
versing every  day  with  his  Majesty,  nor  had  the 
same  reason  to  think  themselves  honoured  with  his 
friendship  as  I  have  had  till  now  ;  nor  has  it  been 
in  his  power  to  give  the  public  so  remarkable  an 
instance  of  his  displeasure  of  them.  Consider, 
madam,  I  have  been  absent  seven  weeks,  and 
returned  sooner  than  was  proper  for  my  health  to 
do  my  duty  in  my  place  to  your  Majesty,  and  to 
show  my  respect  to  his  Majesty  on  his  birthday." 

The  Queen :  "  I  heard  that  you  were  at  the  Bath, 
and  that  you  did  not  design  to  come  back  ;  but  I  did 
not  mind  such  reports." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  I  heard,  too,  madam,  that  I 
was  not  to  come  back,  and  that  my  business  was 
done  at  Court.  I  knew,  madam,  that  I  had  a 
mistress  who  had  often  told  me  that  she  was  perfectly 
satisfied  with  my  services.  I  felt  I  had  a  king,  and 
master,  and  a  friend,  (whom  I  could  not,  nor  ever  will, 
suspect  of  injustice)  who  would  not  punish  me  with- 
out I  was  guilty,  and  I  knew,  madam,  I  had  done 
nothing.  But  still  these  reports  must  now  make  me 
think  his  Majesty's  public  neglect  could  not  escape 
any  bystanders,  and  I  know  it  was  remarked,  for  my 
brother  came  on  Thursday  morning  and  asked  if  it 
were  true  that  the  King  took  no  notice  of  me  since 
I  came  from  the  Bath." 

The  Queen :  "  Well,  child,  you  know  that  the  King 
leaves  it  to  me.  I  will  answer  for  it  that  all  will  be 


as  well  with  you  as  with  any  of  the  ladies,  and  I  am 
sure  you  can't  leave  my  service  then." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Really,  madam,  I  do  not  see 
how  it  is  possible  for  me  to  continue  in  it.  I  have 
lost  what  is  dearer  to  me  than  anything  in  the  world. 
I  am  to  be  put  upon  the  footing  of  the  Duchess  of 

R or  Lady  A ,  and  so  by  the  public  thought 

to  be  forgiven  of  some  very  grave  offence  because  I 
have  been  your  servant  twenty  years.  No,  madam, 
I  never  will  be  forgiven  an  offence  that  I  have  not 

The  Queen:  "You  won't  be  forgotten.  This  is 
indeed  the  G.L.  (sic)  why  I  am  forgiven." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Madam,  your  Majesty  and  I 
cannot  be  named  together.  It  is  a  play  of  words  for 
your  Majesty,  but  it  is  a  serious  thing  for  me." 

The  Queen:  "Why,  child,  I  am  the  King's  sub- 
ject as  well  as  you." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "  Madam,  what  I  mean  is  what  I 
cannot  make  your  Majesty  understand  unless  you  are 
pleased  to  lay  aside  the  Queen  and  put  yourself  in 
my  place  for  some  moments.  After  twenty  years  to 
be  ill-treated  without  knowing  your  crime,  and  then 
stay  upon  the  foot  of  the  Duchess  of  A—  - !  " 

The  Queen :  "  Upon  my  word,  Lady  Suffolk, 
you  do  not  consider  what  the  world  will  say.  For 
God's  sake,  consider  your  character.  You  leave  me 
because  the  King  will  not  be  more  particular  to  you 
than  to  others." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  Madam,  as  for  my  character, 
the  world  must  have  settled  that  long  ago,  whether 


just  or  unjust,  but,  madam,  I  think  I  have  never 
been  thought  to  betray  his  Majesty,  or  to  have  done 
any  dishonest  thing  by  any  person  whatever,  and  I 
defy  my  greatest  enemies  (your  Majesty  owns  I  have 
such)  to  prove  anything  against  me,  and  I  cannot 
and  will  not  submit  to  anything  that  may  make  that 
believed  of  me." 

The  Queen :  "  Oh !  fie !  Lady  Suffolk,  upon  my 
word  that  is  a  very  fine  notion  out  of  Celia,  or  some 
other  romance." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "This  may  not  be  a  very  great 
principle,  but  I  think  it  is  a  just  one,  and  a  proper 
one  for  me  to  have." 

The  Queen :  "  I  will  send  you  down  one.  Come, 
you  love  figures.  Let  me  persuade  you  two-thirds. 
Go  down  and  think  of  this.  There  are  people  who 
want  to  get  you  out  of  Court ;  they  will  be  the  first 
to  drop  you." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Madam,  I  consult  nobody  in 
this ;  there  is  no  occasion." 

The  Queen :  "  You  cannot  judge  for  yourself. 
Let  me  prevail.  Put  yourself  in  somebody's  hands 
and  let  them  act  for  you.  Indeed  you  are  so  warm 
you  are  not  fit  to  act  for  yourself."  {Repeated  the 
same  as  I  said  before.}  "Nor  indeed  very  respectful. 
But  you  will  repent  it.  I  cannot  give  you  leave 
to  go." 

Lady  Suffolk  :  "If  anybody  could  feel  as  I  feel, 
and  could  be  so  entirely  innocent  as  to  let  me  be 
the  only  sufferer  for  the  advice  they  give,  I  might 
follow  the  method  your  Majesty  proposes,  but  as 


that  is  impossible,  I  must  beg  leave  to  act  for 
myself.  I  wish  I  might  know  what  I  am  accused 
of.  In  my  absence  I  have  been  ruined  in  his 
Majesty's  favour.  At  the  Bath  I  have  a  thousand 
witnesses  of  my  behaviour.  I  know  my  own  inno- 
cence. Nobody  dare  tell  me  that  to  my  knowledge 
I  have  ever  failed  in  my  duty  in  any  manner." 

The  Queen :  "  You  are  very  G.  L.  (sic).  Not 
dare  to  tell  you  you  have  been  guilty ! " 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  No,  madam,  for  the  Princess  and 

the  duke  could  justify  my  behaviour,  Lord and 

many  more  ;  what  I  meant  was  as  regards  to  my- 
self. But  I  cannot  think  that  any  wretch  is  so 

abandoned  to  all  shame  as  to  stand  having  the 

(pardon  the  word)  before  such  a  number  as  was 

The  Queen :  "  Pray  how  did  you  live  at  the 

(Here  I  told  all.  Who  B.  denied,  and  what 
happened  to  Lord  B.  No  parties  distinguishable 
to  me.) 

The  Queen :  "  Lady  Suffolk,  pray  consider,  be 

Lady  Suffolk:  "  Madam,  I  beg  your  Majesty 
will  give  me  permission  to  retire.  Indeed  I  have 
not  slept  since  I  came  back  to  your  house,  and 
believe  I  never  shall  under  this  suspicion  of  guilt. 
Madam,  will  you  give  me  leave  to  speak  ?  " 

The  Queen  :  "  Do." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "I  am  here  by  your  Majesty's 
command.  Your  Majesty  should  look  upon  me  when 


I  assert  my  innocence.  Your  Majesty  knows  what 
I  am  accused  of." 

The  Queen:  "Oh!  oh!  Lady  Suffolk,  you  want 
to  get  it  out  of  me." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Madam,  I  do  want  to  face 
the  accusation  ;  I  am  not  afraid  ;  I  know  it  would 
be  to  the  confusion  of  my  accusers." 

The  Queen :  "I  will  not  give  you  leave  to  go, 
I  tell  you  plainly.  If  you  go  to-day  you  go  without 
my  consent." 

Lady  Suffolk :  "  Madam,  I  beg  you  to  think  of 
my  unhappy  situation.  I  own  after  what  passed, 
that  the  next  time  I  saw  his  Majesty,  I  should  have 
dropped  down  if  I  had  not  gone  out." 

The  Queen :  "  Well,  Lady  Suffolk,  will  you 
refuse  me  this  ?  Stay  a  week  longer,  won't  you ; 
stay  this  week  at  my  request." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "Yes,  madam,  I  will  obey  you, 
but  as  I  am  under  his  Majesty's  displeasure,  your 
Majesty  will  not  expect  my  attendance,  or  that  I 
come  again  to  receive  your  commands." 

The  Queen:  "Yes,  I  do,  and  I  will  see  you 
again,  because  you  will  come  again." 

Lady  Suffolk:  "  I  will  obey  your  Majesty." 

The  Queen :  "  Harkee,  Lady  Suffolk,  you  will 
come  up  as  you  used  to  do." 

Lady  Suffolk  stayed  her  week  and  then,  despite 
the  arguments  of  the  Queen,  she  resigned  her 
appointment,  and  left  the  court  for  ever.  She  was 
forty-eight  years  of  age,  and  had  fairly  earned 
her  retirement.  She  was  not  of  a  nature  to  live 


long  alone,  and  the  following  year  she  married  George 
Berkeley,  fourth  son  of  Charles,  second  Earl  of 
Berkeley,  a  man  not  distinguished  for  fortune  or 
good  looks,  but  who,  nevertheless,  made  her  a 
very  good  husband.  The  King  was  in  Hanover 
when  he  heard  of  Lady  Suffolk's  marriage,  and  had 
already  given  her  a  successor.  He  received  the 
news  very  philosophically,  and  wrote  to  the  Queen  : — 

"  J'^tois  extremement  surpris  de  la  disposition 
que  vous  m'avez  mand6  que  ma  vieille  maitresse  a 
fait  de  son  corps  en  mariage  a  ce  vieux  goutteux 
George  Berkeley,  et  je  m'en  rejouis  fort.  Je  ne 
voudrois  pas  faire  de  tels  pr^sens  a  mes  amis ;  et 
quand  mes  ennemis  me  volent,  plut  a  Dieu  que  ce 
soit  toujours  de  cette  fa^on." 

The  King  probably  called  Berkeley  his  enemy 
because  he  was  a  member  of  the  Opposition.  Ber- 
keley died  a  few  years  after  his  marriage  with  Lady 
Suffolk,  but  she  survived  him  for  more  than  twenty 
years.  She  lived,  in  dignified  retirement,  at  her 
villa  at  Marble  Hill,  and  retained,  until  the  end  of 
her  life,  the  charm  of  manner  and  amiability,  which 
had  won  her  many  friends.  Horace  Walpole  used 
to  visit  her  in  her  old  age,  and  gleaned  from 
her  much  material  for  his  famous  Memoirs.  She 
died  in  1767,  in  her  eightieth  year,  having  survived 
George  the  Second  seven  years. 




THE  Court  and  the  Government  acquired  some  little 
popularity  over  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Royal, 
but  it  soon  vanished  before  the  fierce  assaults 
of  the  Opposition  (or  Patriots,  as  they  called  them- 
selves) in  Parliament.  The  first  session  of  1734 
was  the  last  session  under  the  Septennial  Act,  and 
the  Patriots  strained  every  nerve  to  discredit  the 
Government  with  the  country.  A  determined  effort 
was  made  to  repeal  the  Septennial  Act  and  revive 
triennial  parliaments.  This  had  always  been  a 
favourite  scheme  of  Wyndham  and  the  Tories, 
though  Pulteney,  the  leader  of  the  Patriots,  had  in 
1716  voted  for  the  Septennial  Act.  But  Boling- 
broke's  influence  compelled  Pulteney  to  eat  his 
words  though  he  sacrificed  his  political  consistency 
in  doing  so.  The  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons 
on  the  repeal  of  the  Septennial  Act  was  almost  as 
exciting  as  the  debates  on  the  excise,  and,  if  possible, 
a  higher  level  of  eloquence  was  maintained.  Pul- 
teney's  speech,  as  was  natural  under  the  circum- 
stances, was  brief  and  embarrassed,  but  Wyndham 


surpassed  himself  and  would  have  carried  off  the 
honours  of  the  debate  had  it  not  been  for  Wai- 
pole's  great  speech  in  reply.  Walpole,  stung  out 
of  his  usual  indifference  by  the  taunts  levelled  at 
him  in  the  Craftsman,  and  knowing  whose  hand 
had  penned  those  scathing  words  and  whose  master 
mind  had  organised  this  attack,  launched  against 
Bolingbroke,  under  the  name  of  an  "anti-minister," 
a  tremendous  philippic.  After  sketching  the  "  anti- 
minister"  in  no  covert  terms  he  continued: — 

"  Suppose  this  fine  gentleman  lucky  enough  to 
have  gained  over  to  his  party  some  persons  of  really 
fine  parts,  of  ancient  families  and  of  great  fortunes  ; 
and  others  of  desperate  views,  arising  from  disap- 
pointed and  malicious  hearts ;  all  these  gentlemen, 
with  respect  to  their  political  behaviour,  moved  by 
him,  and  by  him  solely,  all  they  say,  in  public  or 
in  private,  being  only  a  repetition  of  the  words  he 
has  put  into  their  mouths  and  a  spitting  out  of  that 
venom  he  has  infused  in  them  ;  and  yet  we  may 
suppose  this  leader  not  really  liked  by  any,  even  of 
those  who  so  blindly  follow  him,  and  hated  by  all 
the  rest  of  mankind.  We  will  suppose  this  anti- 
minister  to  be  in  a  country  where  he  really  ought 
not  to  be,  and  where  he  could  not  have  been  but  by 
the  effect  of  too  much  goodness  and  mercy,  yet  en- 
deavouring with  all  his  might,  and  all  his  art,  to 
destroy  the  fountain  whence  that  mercy  flowed. 
.  .  .  Let  us  further  suppose  this  anti-minister  to 
have  travelled,  and  at  every  Court  where  he  was, 
thinking  himself  the  greatest  minister,  and  making 


it  his  trade  to  reveal  the  secrets  of  every  Court  he 
had  before  been  at,  void  of  all  faith  and  honour,  and 
betraying  every  master  he  ever  served." 

Walpole's  outburst  was  undoubtedly  provoked 
by  Bolingbroke,  but  it  was  none  the  less  cowardly 
thus  to  attack  a  man  who  could  not  answer  him. 
It  was  Walpole  who  had  prevented  Bolingbroke 
from  fighting  openly,  who  had  shut  him  out  from 
the  Senate,  and  thus  forced  him  to  employ  any 
weapons  that  came  to  his  hand.  Yet  even  now  he 
feared  his  power.  A  large  minority  supported  the 
repeal  of  the  Septennial  Act,  and  in  the  general 
election  that  followed,  though  Walpole  employed 
every  means  to  corrupt  the  constituencies  and  spent 
no  less  than  ,£60,000  of  his  own  private  fortune  be- 
sides, the  Government  majority  was  largely  reduced. 
Still  Walpole  won  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  he 
could  have  done  otherwise  considering  the  resources 
at  his  command.  The  Queen  took  the  keenest 
interest  in  the  struggle,  and  her  joy  at  the  result 
showed  how  keen  had  been  her  apprehensions. 
"  On  the  whole,"  wrote  Newcastle  soon  after  the 
general  election,  "  our  Parliament  is,  I  think,  a  good 
one,  but  by  no  means  such  a  one  as  the  Queen  and 
Sir  Robert  imagine." l 

But  the  Patriots,  who  had  indulged  in  high  hopes 
over  the  result  of  this  appeal  to  the  country,  were 
frankly  disappointed.  They  were  further  discour- 
aged by  the  resolution  of  Bolingbroke  to  leave 
England  for  a  time — a  resolution  which  was  ascribed 

1  Duke  of  Newcastle  to  Horace  Walpole,  24th  May,  1734. 


to  different  causes.  Some  said  that  money  matters 
had  to  do  with  it,  others  that  it  was  due  to  differences 
between  Bolingbroke  and  Pulteney,  or  to  the  retire- 
ment of  Lady  Suffolk  from  court,  or,  most  unlikely 
reason  of  all,  to  Walpole's  denunciation  of  him  in 
the  House  of  Commons.  The  probable  reason  was 
that  Bolingbroke  owned  himself  beaten,  and  threw 
up  the  cards.  He  had  led  his  hosts  within  sight 
of  victory  with  consummate  skill,  but  victory  was 
denied  him.  Walpole  had  a  new  lease  of  power  for 
seven  years,  and  who  could  tell  what  seven  years 
would  bring  ?  There  was  nothing  more  to  be  done. 
So  Bolingbroke  retired  to  his  beautiful  chateau  of 
Chanteloup  in  Touraine  for  a  while,  and  devoted 
himself  to  literature.  "  My  part  is  over,"  he  wrote 
to  Wyndham,  "and  he  who  remains  on  the  stage 
after  his  part  is  over  deserves  to  be  hissed  off."1 

The  King  and  Queen,  no  less  than  the  Govern- 
ment, rejoiced  over  Bolingbroke's  departure,  but  their 
rejoicings  were  premature,  for  he  had  left  his  sting 
behind  him.  The  Prince  of  Wales  was  deeply  grieved 
at  the  loss  of  his  political  mentor.  Before  leaving 
Bolingbroke  had  given  him  a  piece  of  advice — to 
bring  his  grievances  formally  before  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  ask  that  the  ,£100,000  a  year  voted 
for  him  should  be  settled  on  him  by  Parliament. 
Bolingbroke  could  not  have  advised  anything 
more  calculated  to  embarrass  the  court  and  the 
Government,  as  he  knew  full  well.  If  the  Prince 
carried  out  his  advice  he  would  make  the  Govern- 

1  Bolingbroke  to  Wyndham,  2gth  November,  1735. 


ment  unpopular,  by  forcing  them  to  appear  opposed 
to  a  popular  demand  ;  he  would  compel  those  poli- 
ticians who  hitherto  had  sat  on  the  fence  to  declare 
themselves  definitely  in  favour  of  either  father  or 
son,  and  he  would  drag  the  differences  of  the  Royal 
Family  into  the  light  of  day,  and  do  grievous  harm 
to  the  dynasty.  The  Prince  was  ready  to  act 
upon  Bolingbroke's  advice,  but  his  more  cautious 
friends,  like  Doddington,  dissuaded  him,  and  he 
did  not  know  how  to  proceed  alone.  But  he  threat- 
ened to  do  so,  and  the  mere  threat  sufficed  to 
throw  the  King  and  Queen  into  an  extraordinary 
state  of  agitation.  The  Queen  still  retained  some 
little  influence  over  her  son,  the  relations  between 
them  had  not  yet  been  strained  to  breaking  point ; 
her  influence  over  her  husband  was  boundless, 
and  she  was  able,  by  preaching  at  the  one  and 
pleading  with  the  other,  to  avert  the  threatened 
crisis.  She  assured  the  Prince  that  if  he  carried 
matters  to  extremities  he  would  gain  nothing,  and 
she  besought  the  King  not  to  drive  the  Prince  to 
extreme  measures.  The  King,  therefore,  on  the 
principle  of  buying  off  his  Danes,  reluctantly  made 
over  a  certain  sum,  which  sufficed  for  the  Prince's 
immediate  necessities,  and  the  crisis  was  for  the 
moment  averted.  But  it  was  only  for  the  moment. 

This  year  (1735)  the  King  paid  his  triennial 
visit  to  Hanover.  He  appointed  the  Queen  to  act 
as  Regent  as  before,  a  step  which  gave  great 
umbrage  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  on  this  occa- 
sion did  not  trouble  to  disguise  his  feelings,  and  for 

VOL.  n.  1 8 


the  first  time  showed  open  disrespect  to  his  mother's 

On  this  visit  of  the  King  to  Hanover  he  began 
his  liaison  with  Amelia  Sophia  de  Walmoden,  the 
wife  of  Baron  de  Walmoden,  a  Hanoverian.  This 
lady's  youthful  charms  soon  made  him  forget  the 
retirement  of  Lady  Suffolk,  and  her  influence  over 
him  quickly  became  greater  than  Lady  Suffolk's  had 
ever  been.  The  new  mistress  had  a  good  deal  of 
beauty,  and  considerable  powers  of  fascination  ; 
she  flattered  the  King  to  the  top  of  his  bent,  and 
made  him  believe  he  was  the  only  man  she  had  ever 
loved,  or  ever  could  love,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
she  had  one,  if  not  two,  other  intrigues  going  on 
at  the  same  time.  She  was  cautious,  and  avoided 
making  enemies  by  not  trespassing  in  matters  out- 
side her  province. 

The  Queen  in  England  was  soon  made  aware 
that  there  was  some  disturbing  influence  at  work. 
The  King's  letters  to  her  became  shorter,  and  he 
usurped  at  Hanover  some  of  the  prerogatives  which 
belonged  to  her  as  Regent,  such  as  signing  com- 
missions, and  so  forth.  He  also,  through  his 
minister  in  attendance,  Lord  Harrington,  cavilled 
at  many  of  the  acts  of  the  Queen- Regent,  a  thing 
he  had  never  done  before.  In  this  perhaps  Har- 
rington's jealousy  of  Walpole  had  some  share. 
Harrington  knew  that,  by  embarrassing  the  Queen, 
he  also  embarrassed  her  chief  adviser.  Therefore, 
between  the  jealousy  of  her  son  at  home  and 
the  irritability  of  her  husband  abroad,  Caroline's 


third  Regency  was  anything  but  a  pleasant  one. 
But  she  suffered  no  word  of  complaint  to  escape 
her  lips,  and  pursued  her  usual  policy  of  trying  to 
increase  the  popularity  of  the  Crown  and  strengthen 
the  hands  of  Walpole  and  the  Government.  She 
was  afraid  to  keep  up  much  state,  lest  the  King  in 
his  present  mood  should  be  jealous,  so  she  removed 
the  court  to  Kensington,  where  she  lived  very 
quietly,  holding  only  such  drawing-rooms  as  were 
absolutely  necessary.  These  she  held  rather  from 
policy  than  from  pleasure,  her  object  being  to  con- 
ciliate the  powerful  Whig  peers  who  were  still 
dissatisfied  with  the  Government. 

The  Queen  found  interest  and  relaxation  in 
improving  her  house  and  gardens  at  Richmond. 
In  addition  to  a  dairy  and  menagerie,  which  she 
had  established  in  the  park,  she  erected  several 
buildings,  more  or  less  ornamental,  in  the  gardens, 
of  which  the  most  peculiar  was  the  one  known  as 
"Merlin's  Cave".  This  extraordinary  edifice  was 
approached  through  a  maze  of  close  alleys  and 
clipped  hedges.  The  Craftsman  ridiculed  it,  and 
declared  that  it  looked  like  "an  old  haystack 
thatched  over".  A  gloomy  passage  led  to  a  large 
circular  room,  decorated  with  several  allegorical 
figures,  of  which  we  glean  the  following  account : — 

"The  figures  her  Majesty  has  ordered  for 
Merlin's  Cave  are  placed  therein,  namely:  (i) 
Merlin  at  a  table  with  conjuring  books  and  mathe- 
matical instruments,  taken  from  the  face  of  Mr. 
Ernest,  page  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  ;  (2)  King 


Henry  the  Seventh's  Queen,  and  (3)  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, who  came  to  Merlin  for  knowledge  ;  the  former 
from  the  face  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Purcell,  the  latter  from 
Miss  Paget's  ;  (4)  Minerva,  from  Mrs.  Poyntz's  ;  (5) 
Merlin's  secretary,  from  Mr.  Kemp's,  one  of  his 
Royal  Highness  the  Duke's  grenadiers ;  and  (6)  a 
witch,  from  a  tradesman's  wife  at  Richmond.  Her 
Majesty  has  ordered  also  a  choice  collection  of 
English  books  to  be  placed  therein." l 

The  people  were  much  interested  in  Merlin's 
Cave,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  finished  the  Queen 
threw  it  open  to  the  public  on  certain  days,  and 
crowds  applied  for  admission.  Similar  imitations  of 
this  pleasure  house  sprang*  up  all  over  the  country, 
despite  its  doubtful  taste.  So  pleased  was  the 
Queen  with  the  cave  that  she  erected  another  house 
hard  by,  and  called  it  "The  Hermitage".  It  was 
built  to  resemble  a  rude  building  overgrown  with 
moss,  and  was  entered,  incongruously,  by  an 
enormous  gilt  gateway.  Merlin's  Cave,  the  Her- 
mitage, and  the  improvements  in  the  house  and 
gardens  at  Richmond  were  expensive  luxuries,  so 
expensive  that  the  Queen  was  unable  to  pay  for 
them  out  of  her  income.  But  Walpole  humoured 
her  in  these  hobbies,  and  made  her  several  little 
grants  from  the  Treasury,  of  which  no  one  was 
the  wiser. 

In  October  the  time  arrived  for  the  King  to  tear 
himself  away  from  Hanover  and  his  Walmoden.  It 
was  necessary  for  him  to  be  back  in  London  by 

1  Gentleman's  Magazine,  2ist  August,  1735. 


October  3oth  to  keep  his  birthday.  He  delayed 
until  he  could  delay  no  longer,  and,  when  he  had  at 
last  to  tear  himself  away,  he  promised  his  mistress 
that  under  any  circumstances  he  would  be  with  her 
next  year  by  May  29th.  The  Walmoden,  between 
smiles  and  tears,  publicly  pledged  her  royal  lover  a 
happy  return  on  May  29th,  at  a  farewell  banquet 
the  night  before  his  departure.  It  was  a  rash  pro- 
mise for  the  King  to  make,  for  he  had  hitherto  only 
visited  Hanover  once  in  three  years ;  and  even  so, 
not  without  protest  from  his  English  advisers. 

George  the  Second  set  out  from  Hanover 
on  Wednesday,  October  22nd,  and  arrived  at 
Kensington  the  following  Sunday.  The  Queen, 
who  had  long  been  expecting  him,  received  the 
news. just  after  she  returned  from  morning  chapel. 
She  at  once  summoned  her  court,  and  went  on  foot 
to  meet  him  at  the  great  gate.  When  the  King 
stepped  out  of  his  coach  she  stooped  and  kissed 
his  hand,  and  he  gave  her  his  arm  and  led  her 
into  the  palace.  It  was  only  on  the  occasion  of 
a  return  from  Hanover  that  the  King  offered  the 
Queen  his  arm  ;  he  probably  did  so  in  consideration 
of  her  holding  the  office  of  Regent,  which  she  had 
not  yet  resigned  into  his  hands.  The  King  held  a 
small  reception  immediately  after  his  arrival,  but 
the  Queen,  who  saw  that  he  was  ill,  soon  dismissed 
the  company.  The  King  had  in  fact  tired  him- 
self by  travelling  too  fast,  and  for  the  next  few  days 
he  was  exceedingly  unwell ;  he  was  also  exceed- 
ingly irritable,  and  every  one  who  came  near  him, 


from  the  Queen  downwards,  incurred  his  wrath. 
He  loudly  lamented  his  beloved  Hanover  and 
abused  England.  "No  English  or  even  French 
cook  could  dress  a  dinner ;  no  English  confectioner 
set  out  a  dessert ;  no  English  player  could  act  ;  no 
English  coachman  could  drive  or  English  jockey 
ride,  nor  were  any  English  horses  fit  to  be  drove  or 
fit  to  be  ridden  ;  no  Englishman  knew  how  to  come 
into  a  room,  nor  any  English  woman  how  to  dress 
herself." l  All  this  and  much  more  from  the  King  of 
England ! 

The  Queen  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  his  ill- 
humour,  and,  what  was  worse,  had  to  endure  the 
fear  that  her  influence  over  him  was  on  the  wane. 
His  manner  towards  her  had  completely  changed  ; 
nothing  she  could  say,  or  do,  was  right,  in  little 
things  or  great.  Among  other  trifles  he  noticed 
that  the  Queen  had  taken  some  bad  pictures  out 
of  one  of  the  rooms  at  Kensington,  and  replaced 
them  by  good  ones.  The  King,  who  knew  nothing 
of  art,  and  cared  less,  for  the  mere  sake  of  finding 
fault,  made  this  a  pretext  for  thwarting  his  wife. 
He  peremptorily  ordered  Lord  Hervey  to  have  the 
new  pictures  taken  away  and  the  old  ones  replaced. 
This  was  impossible,  for  some  of  the  pictures  had 
been  destroyed  and  others  sent  to  Windsor.  But 
Lord  Hervey  did  not  dare  tell  the  King  so  ;  he 
demurred  a  little  and  asked  the  King  if  he  would 
allow  two  Vandykes  at  least  to  remain,  to  which 
George  answered  :  "I  suppose  you  assisted  the 

1  Hervey's  Memoirs. 


Queen  with  your  fine  advice  when  she  was  pulling 
my  house  to  pieces  and  spoiling  all  my  furniture  : 
thank  God,  at  least  she  has  left  the  walls  standing  ! 
As  for  the  Vandykes,  I  do  not  care  whether  they 
are  changed  or  no,  but  for  the  picture  with  the  dirty 
frame  over  the  door,  and  the  three  nasty  little  chil- 
dren, I  will  have  them  taken  away  and  the  old  ones 
restored  ;  I  will  have  it  done  too  to-morrow  morning 
before  I  go  to  London,  or  else  I  know  it  will  not  be 
done  at  all."  "  Would  your  Majesty,"  said  Lord 
Hervey,  "  have  the  gigantic  fat  Venus  restored 
too?"  "Yes,  my  lord;  I  am  not  so  nice  as  your 
lordship.  I  like  my  fat  Venus  much  better  than 
anything  you  have  given  me  instead  of  her." 

Lord  Hervey  says  that  he  thought  that  "  if  his 
Majesty  had  liked  his  fat  Venus  as  well  as  he  used 
to  do,  there  would  have  been  none  of  these  disputa- 
tions ".  He  told  the  Queen  next  morning  what  had 
passed.  She  pretended  to  laugh  but  was  evidently 
annoyed,  and  began  to  wonder  how  she  could  obey 
the  King's  commands.  "Whilst  they  were  speaking 
the  King  came  in,  but  by  good  luck,  said  not  one 
word  of  the  pictures  :  his  Majesty  stayed  about  five 
minutes  in  the  gallery  ;  snubbed  the  Queen,  who 
was  drinking  chocolate,  for  being  always  stuffing  ; 
the  Princess  Emily  for  not  hearing  him  ;  Princess 
Caroline  for  being  grown  fat  ;  the  Duke  [of  Cumber- 
land] for  standing  awkwardly ;  Lord  Hervey  for 
not  knowing  what  relation  the  Prince  of  Sultzbach 
was  to  the  Elector  Palatine :  and  then  carried  the 
Queen  to  walk,  and  be  resnubbed,  in  the  garden." 


The  Queen  was  very  much  perturbed  by  the 
King's  altered  behaviour  towards  her,  and  she  took 
Sir  Robert  Walpole  into  her  confidence,  and  asked 
him  what  was  to  be  done.  Walpole  spoke  to  her 
with  a  frankness  positively  brutal.  He  told  her 
that  since  the  King  had  tasted  "  better  things," 
presumably  the  Walmoden,  it  could  not  be  other 
than  it  was  ;  he  reminded  the  Queen  that  she  was 
no  longer  young,  and  said  that  "she  should  no 
longer  depend  upon  her  person,  but  her  head,  for 
her  influence,  as  the  one  would  now  be  of  little  use 
to  her,  and  the  other  could  never  fail  her."  No 
woman  likes  to  be  told  that  her  personal  charms 
are  gone,  and  Walpole  made  this  advice  the  more 
unpalatable  by  recommending  the  Queen  to  send 
for  Lady  Tankerville,  a  good  looking  but  stupid 
woman,  to  fill  the  place  left  vacant  by  Lady  Suffolk. 
He  told  the  Queen  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary 
that  the  King  should  have  some  one  to  amuse  him, 
"as  he  could  not  spend  his  evenings  with  his  own 
daughters  after  having  tasted  the  sweets  of  passing 
them  with  other  people's "  ;  therefore,  it  would  be 
much  better  that  he  should  have  some  one  chosen 
by  the  Queen  than  by  himself.  Lady  Deloraine, 
who  was  the  other  likely  candidate  for  the  royal 
favour,  and  whom  the  King  had  often  noticed 
when  she  was  governess  to  the  young  Princesses, 
Walpole  regarded  as  a  dangerous  woman,  and 
therefore  preferred  Lady  Tankerville. 

The  Queen  resented  this  advice  in  her  heart, 
and  was  deeply  hurt ;  but  on  the  surface  she  took 


it  well  enough,  laughing  the  matter  off  as  was  her 
wont.  She  was  not  above  making  some  bitter 
jokes  upon  the  situation  in  which  she  found  herself. 
When  she  was  dressed  for  the  King's  birthday 
drawing-room,  she  pointed  to  her  head-dress  and 
said  :  "I  think  I  am  extremely  fine  too,  though  un 
peu  a  la  mode  ;  I  think  they  have  given  me  horns." 
Whereupon  Walpole  burst  into  a  coarse  laugh,  and 
said  he  thought  the  tire-woman  must  be  a  wag. 
The  Queen  laughed  too,  but  flushed  angrily. 

At  this  same  birthday  drawing-room  the  King 
noticed  that  it  was  poorly  attended,  and  those  who 
came  were  indifferently  dressed,  a  sure  sign  of  his 
unpopularity.  The  King,  unpopular  before,  had 
disgusted  his  English  subjects  by  his  long  stay  in 
Hanover,  and  by  the  new  ties  he  had  formed  there, 
for  the  people  had  had  enough  of  German  mistresses 
under  George  the  First.  Many  of  the  great  noble- 
men, even  the  officers  of  state,  showed  their 
resentment  in  a  diplomatic  manner  by  absenting 
themselves  from  court  and  retiring  into  the  country. 
This  made  the  King  angrier  than  ever,  and  his 
manner  towards  the  Queen,  who  was  the  only  person 
upon  whom  it  was  safe  for  him  to  vent  his  displeasure, 
became  harsher  than  before.  She  bore  it  uncom- 
plainingly, until  one  morning  when  he  was  unreason- 
able beyond  endurance  she  said  half  in  jest,  though 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  that  she  would  get  Walpole 
to  put  in  a  word  in  her  favour,  as  nothing  she  now 
did  was  right.  The  King  flew  into  a  passion,  and 
asked  her  what  she  meant  by  such  complaints.  "  Do 


you  think,"  he  said,  "  I  should  not  feel  and  show 
some  uneasiness  for  having  left  a  place  where  I  was 
pleased  and  happy  all  day  long,  and  being  come  to 
one  where  I  am  as  incessantly  crossed  and  plagued?" 
This  was  a  little  too  much  for  the  Queen,  who  for 
once  lost  her  self-control  and  turned  upon  her  tor- 
mentor. "I  see  no  reason,"  she  said,  "that  made 
your  coming  to  England  necessary;  you  might  have 
continued  there,  without  coming  to  torment  yourself 
and  us :  since  your  pleasure  did  not  call  you,  I  am 
sure  your  business  did  not,  for  we  could  have  done 
that  just  as  well  without  you,  as  you  could  have 
pleased  yourself  without  us."  Thereupon  the  King, 
who  was  as  much  astonished  as  Balaam  was  when 
his  ass  spake,  went  out  of  the  room,  and  banged 
the  door. 

The  King  endeavoured  to  propitiate  the  Queen 
by  making  her  a  present  of  some  horses  from 
Hanover.  This  was  a  poor  sort  of  gift,  as  by 
it  he  charged  the  expense  of  the  horses  on  her 
establishment,  and  used  them  himself;  most  of  his 
presents  were  of  this  nature.  As  she  did  not  accept 
the  gift  with  becoming  gratitude,  he  fell  foul  of 
Merlin's  Cave,  which  had  just  been  completed. 
The  Queen  told  him  that  she  heard  the  Craftsman 
had  abused  her  hobby.  "  I  am  very  glad  of  it," 
said  the  King,  "you  deserve  to  be  abused  for  such 
childish  silly  stuff,  and  it  is  the  first  time  I  ever 
knew  the  scoundrel  in  the  right."  This  conversation 
took  place  in  the  evening,  when  the  King  was 
always  peculiarly  irascible.  He  formerly  spent  two 


or  three  hours  of  an  evening  in  Lady  Suffolk's 
apartments,  snubbing  and  worrying  her,  but  since 
that  lady  had  retired,  and  no  one  as  yet  was  found 
to  take  her  place,  he  had  perforce  to  spend  it  with 
his  wife  and  daughters,  and  vent  his  ill-humour  on 
them.  The  same  evening  that  he  abused  Merlin's 
Cave,  he  found  fault  with  the  Queen  for  giving 
away  money  to  servants  when  she  went  to  visit  the 
nobility  in  London.  The  Queen  defended  herself 
by  saying  that  it  was  the  custom,  and  appealed  to 
Lord  Hervey,  who  said  it  was  true  that  such  largess 
was  expected  of  her  Majesty.  The  King  retorted  : 
"Then  she  may  stay  at  home  as  I  do.  You  do  not 
see  me  running  into  every  puppy's  house,  to  see  his 
new  chairs  and  stools.  Nor  is  it  for  you"  said  he, 
turning  to  the  Queen,  "to  be  running  your  nose 
everywhere,  and  trotting  about  the  town  to  every 
fellow  that  will  give  you  some  bread  and  butter, 
like  an  old  girl  that  loves  to  go  abroad,  no  matter 
whether  it  be  proper  or  no."  The  Queen,  who  was 
knotting,  flushed,  and  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  but 
she  answered  nothing.  Lord  Hervey  somewhat 
officiously  said  that  the  Queen  had  a  love  of 
pictures,  whereat  the  King  turned  to  the  Queen 
and  poured  forth  a  flood  of  abuse  in  German.  She 
made  no  reply,  but  knotted  faster  than  ever  until 
she  tangled  her  thread  and  snuffed  out  one  of  the 
candles  in  her  agitation,  whereupon  the  King, 
falling  back  into  English,  began  to  lecture  her 
on  her  awkwardness.  This  may  be  taken  as  a 
specimen  of  the  way  the  Royal  Family  spent  their 


evenings  for  some  weeks  after  the  King's  return 
from  Hanover. 

From  a  hundred  little  things,  the  Queen  feared 
that  her  day  was  over.  The  King  always  used  to  stay 
with  her  till  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  before 
beginning  the  business  of  the  day  ;  but  now  he 
hurried  off  soon  after  nine  o'clock,  in  order  that  he 
might  write  love  letters  to  Madame  de  Walmoden. 
He  was  a  great  letter-writer,  especially  of  love 
letters,  an  art  in  which  he  excelled,  and  probably 
inherited  from  his  mother,  Sophie  Dorothea. 

The  only  matter  in  which  the  King  seemed  to 
be  at  one  with  his  consort,  at  this  time,  was  in 
blaming  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  took  the  occasion 
of  his  father's  return  to  renew  his  demands.  He 
had  for  a  long  time  absented  himself  from  the  King's 
levies,  but  he  was  prevailed  upon  by  Doddington 
to  appear  at  one.  His  appearance,  as  the  King 
suspected,  foreshadowed  a  definite  demand,  which 
was  not  long  in  coming.  The  Prince  requested 
that  he  should  have  his  full  income  of  ,£100,000  a 
year,  a  separate  establishment,  and  be  married.  It 
was  no  use  ignoring  Frederick,  he  only  became 
more  troublesome,  so  the  King  determined  to  yield 
the  point,  which  would  cost  him  least  money,  and 
get  him  married  at  once.  He  sent  his  son  a  formal 
message,  by  five  of  the  Cabinet  Council,  to  say  that, 
if  the  Prince  liked,  he  would  ask  for  him  the  hand 
of  the  Princess  Augusta  of  Saxe-Gotha.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Gotha,  and  the 
King  had  met  her,  as  if  by  accident,  on  his  last  visit 



to  Hanover,  with  a  view  to  seeing  if  she  would  be 
a  suitable  wife  for  his  son.  It  was  not  a  gracious 
way  of  meeting  the  Prince's  wishes,  but  Frederick 
answered  with  great  propriety,  that  whoever  his 
Majesty  thought  a  proper  match  for  his  son  would 
be  agreeable  to  him.  One  of  the  most  irritating 
features  of  the  Prince's  conduct  was  that  he  was 
always  polite  and  circumspect  to  the  King  and 
Queen  in  public,  and  disrespectful  and  disobedient 
in  private.  He  followed  up  his  answer  by  ask- 
ing how  much  money  he  was  to  get.  When  the 
King,  reluctantly,  promised  to  disgorge  ,£50,000  a 
year,  the  Prince  expressed  great  dissatisfaction,  but, 
on  the  principle  of  half  a  loaf  being  better  than  no 
bread,  he  determined  to  accept  the  sum  as  an  instal- 
ment, and  let  the  marriage  go  forward. 

Lord  Delaware  was  therefore  despatched  to 
Saxe-Gotha  to  complete  the  negotiations  which  had 
been  already  set  on  foot,  and  bring  the  bride  over 
to  England.  These  negotiations  took  some  little 
time,  and  the  young  Princess  naturally  wished  to 
pay  her  farewells  before  setting  forth  to  an  unknown 
husband  and  an  unknown  land ;  but  the  King  was 
so  impatient  to  return  to  his  Walmoden  that  after  a 
week  or  two  he  sent  word  to  Delaware  to  say  that 
if  the  Princess  could  not  come  by  the  end  of  April 
the  marriage  must  either  be  put  off  till  the  next 
winter,  or  solemnised  without  him,  as  to  Hanover 
he  would  go.  This  message  had  the  effect  of 
hastening  matters.  The  Princess  Augusta  landed 
at  Greenwich  on  Sunday,  April  25th,  1735,  and 


stayed  the  night  at  the  palace  there.  She  had  the 
promise  of  beauty  and  the  charm  that  always  goes 
with  youth.  At  this  time  she  looked,  as  she  was, 
an  overgrown  girl,  tall  and  slender,  and  somewhat 
awkward  in  her  movements,  but  her  pleasant  expres- 
sion and  engaging  manner  soon  won  her  popularity. 
The  poets  in  their  odes  of  welcome  endowed  the 
youthful  pair  with  all  the  graces,  as  for  example  : — 

That  pair  in  Eden  ne'er  reposed 
Where  groves  more  lovely  grew ; 

Those  groves  in  Eden  ne'er  enclosed 
A  lovelier  pair  than  you. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  went  down  to  Greenwich 
to  meet  his  bride-elect,  and  was  much  pleased  with 
her.  The  next  day  she  showed  herself  to  the  people 
on  the  balcony  of  the  palace,  and  was  warmly 
received.  The  young  Princess  was  only  seventeen 
years  of  age  ;  she  was  quite  alone,  unaccompanied 
by  any  relative,  and  could  not  speak  a  word  of 
English.  Yet  she  was  allowed  to  remain  at  Green- 
wich forty-eight  hours  after  her  landing  in  England 
without  any  one  of  the  Royal  Family  going  near  her 
except  the  Prince.  She  was  treated  with  the  same 
neglect  as  the  Prince  of  Orange  had  been  treated. 
The  excuse  put  forward  on  behalf  of  the  King  and 
Queen  was  that  until  she  was  Princess  of  Wales 
there  was  no  rule  of  precedence  to  guide  them  as  to 
how  she  should  be  received.  They  were  no  doubt 
jealous  of  the  pretensions  which  the  Prince  of  Wales 
put  forward  ;  but  in  any  case,  even  if  they  could  not 
have  gone  themselves  to  welcome  her,  they  might 


have  sent  one  of  the  Princesses  to  befriend  the 
young  and  inexperienced  girl  in  what  must  neces- 
sarily have  been  a  difficult  and  delicate  position. 
The  Prince  endeavoured  to  make  amends  for  this 
neglect  by  paying  his  betrothed  great  attention.  He 
came  to  Greenwich  again  the  next  day  and  dined 
with  his  future  bride.  "He  afterwards,"  we  are  told, 
"  gave  her  Highness  the  diversion  of  passing  on  the 
water  as  far  as  the  Tower  and  back  in  his  barge, 
finely  adorned,  preceded  by  a  concert  of  music. 
Their  Highnesses  afterwards  supped  in  public."1 

The  next  morning  the  Princess  was  escorted 
from  Greenwich  in  one  of  the  royal  coaches  to 
Lambeth,  and  thence  she  proceeded  down  the  river 
to  Whitehall  in  a  barge.  At  Whitehall  she  landed, 
and  was  carried  through  St.  James's  Park  in  a  sedan 
chair  to  the  garden  entrance  of  St.  James's  Palace, 
where  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  had  preceded  her, 
was  waiting.  The  Prince  led  his  betrothed  up  to 
the  great  drawing-room,  where  the  King  and  Queen 
and  all  the  court  were  ready  to  receive  her,  and 
curious  to  see  what  she  was  like.  The  King  had 
been  waiting  more  than  an  hour,  for  the  Princess 
was  late,  and  he  was  consequently  impatient,  and 
not  in  the  best  of  tempers,  but  the  young  girl  by 
her  tact  overcame  any  awkwardness  that  might 
have  attended  her  reception.  She  prostrated  her- 
self at  the  King's  feet,  and  made  a  similar  obei- 
sance to  the  Queen.  Her  behaviour  throughout  this 
trying  ceremony  was  marked  by  such  propriety  and 

1  Gentleman's  Magazine,  April,  1736. 


discretion,  that  she  immediately  created  a  favourable 
impression,  and  did  away  with  any  prejudice  against 

The  Princess  was  not  allowed  much  time  to  rest 
after  her  journey,  for  the  marriage  was  arranged  to 
take  place  that  night,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  Chapel 
Royal,  St.  James's.  Before  the  ceremony  the  King 
and  Queen,  to  avoid  vexed  questions  of  precedence, 
dined  in  private,  but  the  Duke  of  Cumberland 
and  the  Princesses  were  commanded  to  dine  with 
the  Prince  and  his  betrothed.  Unfortunately  the 
harmony  of  this  family  party  was  marred  by  quarrels 
over  minute  questions  of  ceremony.  The  King, 
with  a  view  to  overcoming  any  difficulties,  had 
ordered  the  Duke  and  the  Princesses  to  go  "  un- 
dressed," that  is,  informally,  and  in  other  clothes 
than  those  they  were  to  wear  later  at  the  wedding. 
The  Prince  resented  this  as  a  slight  upon  himself 
and  his  bride,  and  in  return  began  disputing  as  to 
where,  and  how,  his  brother  and  sisters  should  sit  at 
dinner.  He  demanded  that  they  should  be  seated 
upon  stools  without  any  backs,  whilst  he  and 
his  bride  occupied  armchairs  at  the  head  of  the 
table  ;  also  that  he  and  his  bride  should  be  served 
on  bended  knee,  while  the  others  should  be  waited 
upon  in  the  ordinary  manner.  The  King  and 
Queen  had  anticipated  some  of  those  difficulties,  and 
had  coached  the  Princesses  beforehand  in  what  they 
were  to  do.  So  they  flatly  refused  to  go  into  the 
room  where  dinner  was  served  until  the  stools  had 
been  carried  away  and  chairs  put  in  their  places, 


but  they  so  far  yielded  the  other  point  as  to  order 
their  personal  servants  to  wait  upon  them  in  the 
usual  manner.  Thus  the  wedding  dinner  passed 
off,  if  not  exactly  harmoniously,  without  any  more 
childish  disputes,  though  the  Princesses  went  with- 
out their  coffee  as  it  was  offered  to  them  by  a  ser- 
vant of  the  bride.  The  dinner,  and  the  altercations 
in  connection  with  it,  occupied  the  best  part  of  the 
afternoon,  and  the  bride  had  scarcely  time  to  dress 
for  the  wedding. 

The  wedding  procession  was  formed  at  eight 
o'clock,  and  it  took  some  time  to  marshal.  The 
peers  and  peeresses,  and  other  personages  invited  to 
the  wedding,  met  in  the  great  drawing-room  of  St. 
James's,  and  then  walked  in  order  of  precedence  to 
the  chapel.  The  Bishop  of  London  performed  the 
marriage  ceremony,  and  the  joining  of  hands  was 
made  known  to  the  public  by  the  firing  of  guns  in 
St.  James's  Park.  The  following  extract  from  a 
contemporary  print  gives  the  best  account  of  the 
ceremony : — 

"  Her  Highness  was  in  her  hair,  wearing  a  crown 
with  one  bar,  as  Princess  of  Wales,  set  all  over  with 
diamonds ;  her  robe  likewise,  as  Princess  of  Wales, 
being  of  crimson  velvet,  turned  back  with  several 
rows  of  ermine,  and  having  her  train  supported  by 
four  ladies,  all  of  whom  were  in  virgin  habits  of 
silver,  like  the  Princess,  and  adorned  with  diamonds 
not  less  in  value  than  from  twenty  to  thirty  thousand 
pounds  each.  Her  Highness  was  led  by  his  Royal 

Highness  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  conducted 
VOL.  ii.  19 


by  His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  Lord  Chamber- 
lain of  the  Household,  and  the  Lord  Hervey,  Vice- 
Chamberlain,  and  attended  by  the  Countess  of 
Effingham,  and  the  other  ladies  of  her  household. 
The  marriage  service  was  read  by  the  Lord  Bishop 
of  London,  Dean  of  the  Chapel ;  and,  after  the  same 
was  over,  a  fine  anthem  was  performed  by  a  great 
number  of  voices  and  instruments.  When  the  pro- 
cession returned,  his  Royal  Highness  led  his  bride  ; 
and  coming  into  the  drawing-room,  their  Royal  High- 
nesses kneeled  down  and  received  their  Majesties' 
blessing.  At  half-an-hour  after  ten  their  Majesties 
sat  down  to  supper  in  ambigu,  the  Prince  and  the 
Duke  being  on  the  King's  right  hand,  and  the 
Princess  of  Wales  and  the  four  Princesses  on  the 
Queen's  left.  Their  Majesties  retiring  to  the  apart- 
ments of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  the  bride  was 
conducted  to  her  bedchamber,  the  bridegroom 
to  his  dressing-room,  where  the  Duke  undressed 
him,  and  his  Majesty  did  his  Royal  Highness 
the  honour  to  put  on  his  shirt.  The  bride  was 
undressed  by  the  Princesses,  and,  being  in  bed  in 
a  rich  undress,  his  Majesty  came  into  the  room, 
the  Prince  following  soon  after  in  a  night-gown  of 
silver  stuff,  and  cap  of  the  finest  lace.  The  Quality 
were  admitted  to  see  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
sitting  up  in  bed  surrounded  by  all  the  Royal 

The  King  had  grumbled  because  there  were  few 
new  clothes  at  his  birthday  drawing-room,  but  no 

1  Gentleman's  Magazine,  April,  1736. 


such  complaint  could  be  made  on  this  occasion,  for 
the  splendour  and  richness  of  the  costumes  had 
never  been  excelled.  The  Georgian  beau  was  a 
gorgeous  being  ;  the  men  seemed  to  outshine  the 
ladies.  We  read  : — 

"His  Majesty  was  dressed  in  a  gold  brocade, 
turned  up  with  silk,  embroidered  with  large  flowers 
in  silver  and  colours,  as  was  the  waistcoat ;  the 
buttons  and  stars  were  diamonds.  Her  Majesty 
was  in  plain  yellow  silk,  robed  and  faced  with  pearls, 
diamonds,  and  other  jewels  of  immense  value.  The 
Dukes  of  Grafton,  Newcastle,  and  St.  Albans,  the 
Earl  of  Albemarle,  Lord  Hervey,  Colonel  Pelham 
and  many  other  noblemen,  were  in  gold  brocades 
of  from  three  to  five  hundred  pounds  a  suit.  The 
Duke  of  Marlborough  was  in  a  white  velvet  and 
gold  brocade,  upon  which  was  an  exceedingly  rich 
point  cCEspagne.  The  Earl  of  Euston  and  many 
others  were  in  clothes  flowered  or  sprigged  with 
gold  ;  the  Duke  of  Montagu  in  a  gold  brocaded 
tissue.  The  waistcoats  were  universally  brocades, 
with  large  flowers.  'Twas  observed  most  of  the 
rich  clothes  were  the  manufacture  of  England,  and 
in  honour  of  our  own  artists.  The  few  which  were 
French  did  not  come  up  to  these  in  richness,  good- 
ness, or  fancy,  as  was  seen  by  the  clothes  worn  by 
the  Royal  Family,  which  were  all  of  the  British 
manufacture.  The  cuffs  of  the  sleeves  were 
universally  deep  and  open,  the  waists  long,  and 
the  plaits  more  sticking  out  than  ever.  The  ladies 
were  principally  in  brocades  of  gold  and  silver,  and 


wore  their  sleeves  much  lower  than  hath  been  done 
for  some  time." l 

After  her  marriage  the  Princess  of  Wales  main- 
tained the  favourable  impression  she  created  at 
first,  a  notable  feat  considering  that  she  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  seclusion  of  her  mother's  country 
house  in  Saxe-Gotha,  and  had  come  to  a  Court 
far  more  splendid  than  any  she  could  have  ever 
dreamed  of.  Walpole,  who  noted  how  she  had  won 
the  King's  approval  and  gained  the  Prince's  esteem, 
declared  that  these  "were  circumstances  that  spoke 
strongly  in  favour  of  brains  which  had  but  seventeen 
years  to  ripen ".  Lord  Waldegrave  testified  that 
the  Princess  distinguished  herself  "  by  a  most  decent 
and  prudent  behaviour,  and  the  King,  notwith- 
standing his  aversion  to  his  son,  behaved  to  her 
not  only  with  great  politeness,  but  with  the  appear- 
ance of  cordiality  and  affection  ".  Even  old  Sarah, 
Duchess  of  Marlborough,  who  hated  Queen  Caroline, 
and  generally  had  a  bad  word  to  say  for  every  one, 
relented  in  favour  of  the  Princess,  declaring  that 
she  "  always  appeared  good-natured  and  civil  to 
everybody".  The  Princess's  subsequent  conduct 
justified  these  praises,  and  she  showed  herself  as 
the  years  went  by  to  be  a  clever  woman,  with 
considerable  force  of  character. 

At  first  her  position  was  exceedingly  difficult  in 
consequence  of  the  strained  relations  between  the 
Prince  and  his  parents.  She  necessarily  saw  more 
of  the  Queen  than  of  the  King,  and  though  the 

1  Gentleman's  Magazine,  April,  1736. 


Queen's  kindness  to  her  never  wavered,  there  was 
always  a  barrier  of  reserve  between  them,  for  the 
Prince  had  now  come  to  dislike  his  mother  even 
more  than  his  father.  Just  before  his  marriage  the 
Queen  had  had  a  difference  with  her  son  over  the 
question  whether  Lady  Archibald  Hamilton  was,  or 
was  not,  to  be  one  of  the  ladies  in  waiting  to  the 
Princess ;  the  Prince  wishing  her  to  be  appointed, 
and  the  Queen  declaring  that  it  was  not  proper 
that  the  Prince's  mistress  should  be  one  of  his 
wife's  household.  She  was  undoubtedly  right,  but 
the  Prince  might  have  retorted,  and  he  probably 
did,  that  he  was  only  following  precedent,  since 
Lady  Suffolk  had  filled  a  similar  position  in  the 
household  of  his  parents.  The  matter  was  com- 
promised by  only  three  ladies  in  waiting  being 
appointed  by  the  Queen,  and  the  Princess  was  left 
free  to  nominate  one  other  when  she  arrived.  The 
Prince  gained  such  an  ascendency  over  his  wife 
that  the  first  thing  she  did  was  to  appoint  Lady 
Archibald  Hamilton,  who  soon  became  her  constant 
companion.  Lady  Archibald  was  not  a  wise  adviser 
to  the  young  Princess  even  in  minor  matters,  or 
perhaps  she  deliberately  set  about  to  make  her  look 
ridiculous.  The  Princess  was  quite  ignorant  of  the 
customs  of  the  English  Court,  and  was  imbued  by 
her  husband  with  a  strong  sense  of  what  was  due 
to  her  as  Princess  of  Wales.  Either  at  his  bidding 
or  Lady  Archibald's  suggestion,  she  took  to  walking 
in  Kensington  Gardens  with  two  gentlemen-ushers 
going  before  her,  a  chamberlain  leading  her  by  the 


hand,  a  page  holding  up  her  long  train,  and  her 
maids  of  honour  and  ladies  in  waiting  following 
behind.  The  Queen  met  this  grotesque  procession 
one  morning  when  she  was  out  on  her  walks,  and 
burst  into  peals  of  laughter.  The  poor  Princess  of 
Wales,  who  was  not  conscious  of  having  done  any- 
thing wrong,  begged  to  know  the  reason  of  her 
Majesty's  merriment,  whereupon  the  gentle  Princess 
Caroline  so  far  forgot  her  gentleness  as  to  tell  her 
sister-in-law,  tartly,  that  it  was  ridiculous  for  her  to 
walk  out  like  a  tragedy  queen,  when  she  was  merely 
taking  the  air  privately  in  the  gardens. 

If  the  King  and  Queen  had  thought  to  pacify 
their  eldest  son  by  yielding  to  his  wish  to  be  married, 
they  quickly  found  themselves  mistaken.  The  Prince 
accepted  this  concession  only  as  an  instalment,  and 
immediately  began  to  ask  for  more.  He  did  not  con- 
sider his  demand  for  a  separate  establishment  met 
by  his  being  given  apartments  in  the  royal  palaces, 
and  he  refused  to  be  contented  with  anything  less 
than  the  full  sum  voted  for  him  by  Parliament. 
The  King  stoutly  refused  to  yield  more  and  ex- 
pressed himself  very  forcibly  on,  what  he  called,  his 
son's  ungrateful  conduct.  Thus  baffled,  the  Prince 
began  to  raise  money  right  and  left  by  giving  bills 
and  bonds  payable  on  the  death  of  his  father  and 
his  own  accession  to  the  throne,  and  the  money- 
lenders were  willing  to  advance  him  money  on  these 
conditions  at  an  extortionate  rate  of  interest.  When 
the  King  heard  of  this  he  became  greatly  frightened 
lest  the  rapacity  of  the  usurers  should  cause  them  to 


hasten  his  death  by  assassination.  The  Queen  feared 
for  the  King's  safety  too,  and  had  long  talks  with 
Walpole  and  Lord  Hervey  on  the  subject.  Lord 
Hervey,  who  hated  the  Prince,  offered  to  brmg  for- 
ward a  bill  in  the  House  of  Lords  making  it  a  capital 
offence  for  any  man  to  lend  money  on  the  considera- 
tion of  the  King's  death,  but  Walpole  wisely  pooh- 
poohed  the  idea.  He  strongly  objected  to  bringing 
the  disputes  of  the  Royal  Family  before  the  public, 
and  told  the  Queen  he  could  see  no  way  of  keeping 
the  Prince  in  order  except  through  the  good  influence 
of  the  Princess  of  Wales.  The  Queen  then  tried  to 
discuss  matters  with  the  Princess,  but,  coached  by 
her  husband,  she  would  not  listen.  She  was  very 
sorry  she  said,  but  her  Majesty  must  excuse  her, 
she  .  must  decline  to  take  any  part  in  the  con- 
troversy. Whatever  her  husband  did  was  right  in 
her  eyes  and  it  was  her  duty  to  obey  him,  whom 
she  had  sworn  to  obey.  This  drew  from  the  Queen 
the  expression  :  "  Poor  creature,  if  she  were  to  spit 
in  my  face  I  should  only  pity  her  for  being  under 
such  a  fool's  direction,  and  wipe  it  off".  She  pitied 
the  Princess  rather  than  blamed  her,  and  allowed 
this  little  incident  to  make  no  difference  to  her 
behaviour  towards  her.  The  Princess  no  doubt 
had  done  wisely  and  the  Prince  showed  his  ap- 
preciation by  treating  his  wife  with  courtesy  and 
kindness,  and  the  marriage,  which  had  begun  in- 
auspiciously,  turned  out  better  than  any  one  ex- 




THE  Prince  of  Wales's  marriage  over,  the  King 
became  very  impatient  to  return  to  Hanover.  The 
pledge  he  had  given  to  Madame  Walmoden  last 
year,  that  he  would  be  with  her  on  May  29th,  had 
become  known  to  Walpole,  who  swore  to  the  Queen 
that  the  King  should  not  go  if  he  could  prevent  it. 
The  Quakers'  Bill  was  just  then  before  Parliament 
and  the  bishops  were  giving  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
to  the  Government  in  the  House  of  Lords ;  the  King's 
departure  for  Hanover  again  so  soon  would  be  another 
source  of  embarrassment.  But  neither  Walpole's  pro- 
tests nor  the  Queen's  more  diplomatic  representations 
were  of  any  avail  with  the  King.  "  I  am  sick  to  death 
of  all  this  foolish  stuff,"  said  the  Defender  of  the  Faith 
to  the  Queen  one  day  when  she  was  speaking  to 
him  about  the  bishops'  action  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  "and  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  the  devil 
may  take  all  your  bishops  and  the  devil  take  your 
minister,  and  the  devil  take  the  parliament,  and  the 
devil  take  the  whole  island,  provided  I  can  get  out 
of  it  and  go  to  Hanover." 


After  this  there  was  clearly  nothing  more  to  be 
said,  and  in  the  middle  of  May  the  King  set  out  for 
Hanover,  this  time  taking  Horace  Walpole  with 
him  as  minister  in  attendance  instead  of  Harring- 
ton, whom  the  Queen  and  Walpole  determined 
should  never  go  with  the  King  to  Hanover  again. 
He  again  appointed  the  Queen  Regent,  and  sent 
a  message  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  telling  him  that 
wherever  the  Queen-Regent  resided,  there  would 
be  apartments  provided  for  himself  and  the  Princess. 
The  Prince  resented  this  message,  which  forced 
him,  he  said,  to  move  his  household  at  the  Queen's 
pleasure,  and  made  him  practically  a  prisoner  in  her 
palace.  That  was  perhaps  an  exaggeration,  but  the 
order  was  evidently  designed  to  prevent  the  Prince 
and  Princess  setting  up  a  court  of  their  own  in  the 
King's  absence.  The  Prince  considered  that  his 
marriage  gave  him  an  additional  claim  to  be 
appointed  Regent  instead  of  the  Queen.  He  there- 
fore tried  in  many  small  ways  to  set  her  authority  as 
Regent  at  defiance,  and  he  trumped  up  the  excuse 
of  the  Princess's  indisposition  to  hinder  him  from 
occupying  the  same  house  as  the  Queen  according 
to  the  King's  command.  The  Queen,  who  suspected 
that  this  was  only  an  evasion,  came  up  from  Rich- 
mond, where  she  had  removed  after  the  King  left, 
to  London  to  find  out  if  the  Princess  of  Wales  were 
really  ill.  But  her  intention  was  baffled,  for  when 
she  arrived  she  was  told  that  the  Princess  was  in 
bed  and  could  not  receive  her,  and  when  the  Queen 
insisted  on  being  shown  to  her  daughter-in-law's 


chamber,  she  found  the  room  so  dark  that  she  could 
scarcely  see  her,  and  had  to  return  to  Richmond  no 
better  informed  than  when  she  set  out.  Shortly 
afterwards  the  Queen  removed  to  Hampton  Court, 
and  with  some  little  delay  the  Prince  and  Princess 
followed,  and  had  their  suite  of  apartments  allotted 
them  there. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  did  not  attend  the  Council 
when  the  Queen  broke  the  seals  of  the  King's  com- 
mission making  her  Regent ;  he  pretended  that  he 
had  mistaken  the  hour.  He  tried  by  every  possible 
means  to  discredit  the  Queen- Regent's  authority,  and 
to  cultivate  popularity  at  the  expense  of  his  parents, 
It  was  fairly  easy  for  him  to  pit  himself  against  his 
father,  for  the  King's  conduct  in  going  to  Hanover 
two  years  running,  his  affaire  with  the  Walmoden, 
and  the  fact  that  he  had  left  unfilled  several  com- 
missions in  the  army  because,  people  said,  he  wished 
to  pocket  the  pay  himself,  had  made  him  more 
unpopular  than  ever.  Some  measure  of  this  un- 
popularity reflected  itself  upon  the  Queen,  though 
she,  poor  woman,  was  the  greatest  sufferer  by  the 
King's  intrigue  with  the  Walmoden.  The  Princess 
of  Wales  also  suddenly  discovered  that  she  had 
scruples  about  receiving  the  Sacrament  according 
to  the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  de- 
clared that  she  was  a  Protestant  and  a  Lutheran. 
This  move,  which  was  probably  made  by  command 
of  the  Prince  in  order  to  gain  the  goodwill  of  the 
Dissenters,  gave  a  great  deal  of  annoyance  to  the 
Queen,  for  the  bishops  and  clergy  were  up  in  arms 


about  it,  talked  loudly  of  the  Act  of  Succession,  and 
declared  that  if  the  Princess  would  not  conform  to 
the  rites  of  the  Church  of  England  she  would  have 
to  be  sent  back  again  to  Saxe-Gotha.  The  Queen 
spoke  to  the  Prince  on  the  subject,  but  he  declared 
that  he  could  do  nothing,  for  when  he  reasoned  to 
his  wife  she  only  wept  and  talked  of  her  conscience. 
However,  the  threat  of  being  sent  back  to  Saxe- 
Gotha  effectually  abolished  the  Princess's  scruples  ; 
she  dried  her  tears  and  attended  the  services  at  the 
chapel  at  Hampton  Court  like  the  rest  of  the  Royal 
Family.  Yet  even  when  they  came  to  church  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  managed  to  show 
disrespect  to  the  Queen's  office  as  Regent.  They 
arranged  always  to  come  late,  so  that  the  Princess 
had  to  push  past  the  Queen  in  the  royal  pew,  an 
uncomfortable  proceeding  so  far  as  the  Queen  was 
concerned,  for  she  was  stout  and  the  pew  was  narrow. 
Moreover,  the  arrival  of  the  Prince  and  Princess  and 
a  numerous  suite  half-way  through  the  service  was 
exceedingly  disturbing,  so,  after  bearing  with  it  two 
or  three  Sundays,  the  Queen  sent  word  that  if  the 
Princess  came  late  she  must  make  her  entry  by  an- 
other door.  The  Princess,  however,  persisting,  the 
Queen  ordered  a  servant  to  stand  at  the  main  entrance 
of  the  chapel  after  she  had  gone  in  and  not  permit 
any  one  to  pass  until  the  service  was  over,  which 
would  have  the  effect  of  sending  the  Princess  round 
to  another  door,  or  of  keeping  her  out  of  the  chapel 
altogether.  The  Prince,  however,  was  equal  even 
to  this,  for  he  told  the  Princess  that  if  she  was  not 


ready  to  go  into  chapel  with  the  Queen  she  was  not 
to  go  at  all,  and  so  neatly  avoided  yielding  the  point. 

The  Queen,  notwithstanding  all  these  studied 
slights  and  petty  insults,  was  determined  not  to 
quarrel  with  her  son,  and  regularly  asked  the  Prince 
and  Princess  to  dine  with  her  once  or  twice  a  week, 
and  sometimes  invited  them  to  music  and  cards 
in  the  gallery  at  Hampton  Court  in  the  evening. 
The  Princess  came  now  and  then  to  these  latter 
functions,  the  Prince  never,  though  they  both  were 
obliged  to  come  to  dinner  when  the  Queen  asked 
them.  These  dinners  could  not  have  been  pleasant 
to  either  side  ;  they  certainly  were  not  to  the  Queen, 
who,  after  they  were  over,  used  to  declare  that  the 
dulness  of  her  daughter-in-law  and  the  silly  jokes  of 
her  son  gave  her  the  vapours,  and  she  felt  more 
tired  than  "  if  she  had  carried  them  round  the  garden 
on  her  back  ". 

Meanwhile  the  King  at  Hanover  was  enjoying 
himself  with  his  enchantress,  who  had  presented 
him  with  a  fine  boy,  which  it  suited  her  purpose  to 
declare  was  his  son.1  The  King,  who  was  now  fifty- 
three  years  of  age,  firmly  believed  her,  and  his  affec- 
tions became  riveted  to  Madame  Walmoden  more 
firmly  than  ever.  Yet  he  might  well  have  doubted, 
for  the  lady  had  many  friends  to  console  her  in  his 
absence,  and  a  suspicious  incident  occurred  this 

1  This  son,  according  to  some  authorities,  came  over  to  England 
with  Madame  Walmoden,  afterwards  Countess  of  Yarmouth,  after 
the  Queen's  death,  and  was  generally  known  at  court  as  "  Master 
Louis".  But  according  to  Lord  Hervey  the  child  died  within  a  year 
of  its  birth. 


summer  even  while  George  was  at  Hanover.  The 
King  was  staying,  according  to  his  custom,  at  Her- 
renhausen,  and  Madame  Walmoden  was  living  in  the 
apartments  set  apart  for  her  by  the  King  in  the  Leine 
Schloss.  She  spent  most  of  her  time  with  the  King 
at  Herrenhausen,  returning  to  the  Leine  Schloss  at 
night,  where  she  was  sometimes  visited  by  the  King. 
The  Leine  Schloss  was  very  different  then  to  what 
it  is  now,  for  it  was  fronted  by  extensive  gardens  on 
both  banks  of  the  Leine,  the  gardens  through  which 
poor  Sophie  Dorothea  used  to  steal,  disguised,  to 
Konigsmarck's  lodgings.  The  Walmoden's  bed- 
chamber was  on  the  garden  side  of  the  palace,  and 
one  night  a  gardener  chancing  to  walk  round  the 
palace  in  the  small  hours  found  a  ladder  placed  im- 
mediately under  Madame  Walmoden's  window.  The 
man  thought  this  must  be  the  attempt  of  a  burglar, 
who  had  come  to  steal  the  lady's  jewels,  and 
made  a  careful  search  round  the  garden.  He  pre- 
sently discovered  a  man  hiding  behind  a  bush, 
whom  he  immediately  seized,  and,  shouting  for  the 
guard,  had  him  placed  under  arrest.  To  every  one's 
astonishment,  the  prisoner  proved  to  be  no  thief,  but 
an  officer  in  the  Austrian  service,  named  Schulem- 
burg,  a  relative  of  the  Duchess  of  Kendal's,  who 
was  on  a  visit  to  Hanover  in  connection  with  some 
diplomatic  mission.  Schulemburg  protested  against 
the  indignity  put  upon  him,  which  he  said  would  be 
resented  not  only  by  himself,  but  by  his  master,  the 
Emperor,  and  made  such  a  fuss  that  the  captain  of 
the  guard  released  him  at  once. 


Before  the  morning  the  story  was  all  over  the 
palace,  and  Madame  Walmoden,  who  had  been 
aroused  in  the  night,  was  in  a  great  state  of  agita- 
tion. But  her  woman's  wit  came  to  her  aid.  As 
early  as  six  o'clock  the  next  morning  she  ordered 
her  coach  and  drove  off  to  Herrenhausen  to  give 
her  version  of  the  affair  to  the  King  before  any  one 
else  could  tell  him.  George  was  still  a-bed  when 
the  lady  arrived,  but  being  a  privileged  personage 
she  passed  the  guards  and  .made  her  way  to  his 
bedside.  She  threw  herself  upon  her  knees,  and 
besought  the  King,  between  her  tears  and  sobs,  to 
protect  her  from  gross  insult,  or  allow  her  to  retire 
from  his  court  for  ever ;  she  declared  that  she 
loved  him  not  as  a  king  but  as  a  man,  and  for  his 
own  sake  alone,  but  wicked  envious  people,  who 
were  jealous  of  the  favour  he  had  shown  her,  were 
plotting  to  ruin  her.  The  King,  astonished  at  this 
early  visit,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  asked  what  it  all 
meant.  She  then  told  him  about  the  ladder,  and 
declared  that  it  must  have  been  placed  there  by 
design  of  a  certain  Madame  d'Elitz  with  intent  to 
ruin  her  with  the  King.  This  Madame  d'Elitz  was 
also  a  Schulemburg,  a  niece  of  the  old  Duchess  of 
Kendal.  She  was  credited  with  having  had  intrigues 
with  three  generations  of  the  Hanoverian  family, 
the  old  King,  George  the  First,  the  present  King, 
George  the  Second,  and  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales, 
before  he  came  over  to  England.  This  was  pro- 
bably an  exaggeration,  but  it  is  certain  that  she  was 
the  mistress  of  George  the  Second  before  he 


deserted  her  for  the  superior  charms  of  the  Wal- 
moden.  So  the  story  had  at  least  the  element  of 
plausibility.  At  any  rate  the  King  accepted  it,  and 
ordered  the  captain  of  the  guard  to  be  put  under 
arrest  for  having  released  Schulemburg,  and  sent 
word  that  he  should  again  be  apprehended.  But 
Horace  Walpole,  the  English  Minister  in  attendance, 
fearing  that  this  might  involve  the  King  in  a  quarrel 
with  the  Emperor,  sent  Schulemburg  word  pri- 
vately to  make  speed  out  of  Hanover,  which  he  did 

All  sorts  of  versions  were  given  of  this  ladder 
incident,  which  quickly  became  known  in  London, 
and  was  much  discussed  by  Queen  Caroline  and  her 
court.  The  King  wrote  long  letters  to  the  Queen 
in  England,  telling  her  all  about  the  affair,  and 
asking  her  to  judge  it  impartially  for  him,  as  he  was 
so  fond  of  the  Walmoden  that  he  could  not  judge  it 
otherwise  than  partially,  and  if  she  were  in  doubt 
he  asked  her  to  consult  le  gros  homme,  Sir  Robert 
Walpole,  "who,"  he  said,  "is  much  more  experi- 
enced, my  dear  Caroline,  in  these  affairs  than  you, 
and  less  prejudiced  than  myself  in  it".  But  whatever 
was  the  Queen's  opinion  the  King  remained  devoted 
to  his  Walmoden,  and  refused  to  believe  any  evil  of 
her.  Whether  Caroline  really  consulted  Walpole  or 
not  it  is  impossible  to  say ;  but  though  she  laughed 
about  the  incident  in  public  she  wept  many  bitter  tears 
in  private,  and  her  patience  was  well-nigh  exhausted. 

Caroline  had  no  easy  part  to  play  in  this,  her 
fourth  and  most  eventful,  regency.  Her  health  had 


been  failing  for  some  time,  and  now  was  an  ever- 
present  trouble.  The  knowledge  of  the  King's 
infatuation,  and  the  fear  that  her  influence  over  him 
was  waning,  preyed  upon  her  mind,  and  she  was 
further  harassed  by  the  covert  rebellion  against  her 
authority  carried  on  by  the  Prince  of  Wales.  All 
these  were  troubles  from  within,  but  those  from 
without  were  also  serious.  The  King  was  never  so 
unpopular  as  now,  and  his  unpopularity  reflected  itself 
upon  the  Government.  There  were  discontents  and 
disorders  in  different  parts  of  the  country  ;  a  riot  broke 
out  in  the  west  of  England  because  of  the  exporta- 
tion of  corn,  and  so  violent  were  the  farmers  that  in 
many  districts  the  military  had  to  be  called  out  to 
quell  the  tumult.  Another  disturbance  took  place 
at  Spitalfields  among  the  weavers,  who  objected  to 
Irishmen  working  there  because  they  were  willing  to 
accept  lower  wages  and  could  accustom  themselves 
to  a  lower  standard  of  living  than  Englishmen.  A 
riot  broke  out  and  many  Irish  were  killed  and  others 
wounded.  Huge  mobs  assembled,  and  again  the 
Queen-Regent  had  to  command  that  soldiers  should 
be  called  out,  which  had  the  effect  of  diverting  the 
rage  of  the  weavers  from  the  Irish  to  the  court. 
They  now  began  to  curse  the  Germans  even  more 
loudly  than  they  execrated  the  Irish,  and  from  cursing 
the  Germans  they  proceeded  to  cursing  the  King  and 
Queen,  and  shouting  for  James  the  Third.  Eventu- 
ally the  soldiers  quelled  the  riots,  but  not  without 
bloodshed,  and  the  discontent  was  all  the  more 
active  for  being  driven  below  the  surface. 


Another  source  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  people 
was  the  Gin  Act,  which  had  been  passed  with  the 
object  of  abating  the  vice  of  drunkenness,  and 
especially  the  drinking  of  gin  by  the  lower  classes. 
Gin  drinking  at  that  time  was  the  popular  habit,  and 
was  carried  to  such  a  degree  that  the  drunkenness 
of  the  mob  and  the  depraved  and  debased  condition 
of  public  morals  became  a  crying  scandal.  The 
sale  of  gin  was  carried  to  such  an  extent  in  the 
taverns  that  a  newspaper  of  the  time  informs  us : 
"We  hear  that  a  strong- water  shop  was  lately 
opened  in  Southwark  with  this  inscription  on  the 
sign  :- 

Drunk  for  one  penny, 
Dead  drunk  for  two  pence, 
Clean  straw  for  nothing." 1 

The  Gin  Act  was  passed  with  a  view  to  putting 
a  stop  to  this  sale,  but  without  success,  and  the 
truth  that  people  cannot  be  made  sober  by  Act  of 
Parliament  was  proved  up  to  the  hilt.  The  only 
result  was  to  encourage  a  gang  of  informers  who  be- 
came the  pest  of  the  country.  The  Act  came  into 
force  on  September  29th,  1736,  and  as  the  date 
approached  ballads  and  lamentations  of  "  Mother 
Gin  "  were  sung  about  the  streets,  the  signs  of  the 
liquor  shops  were  everywhere  put  into  mourning, 
and  mock  ceremonies  on  the  funeral  of  "  Madam 
Gin  "  were  carried  out  by  the  mob.  To  quote  from 
the  journals :  "  Last  Wednesday,  September  29th, 

1  Old  Whig,  z6th  February,  1736.     This  inscription  was  after- 
wards introduced  by  Hogarth  in  his  caricature  of  Gin  Lane. 
VOL.  II.  20 


several  people  made  themselves  very  merry  with  the 
death  of  '  Madam  Gin,'  and  some  of  both  sexes 
got  soundly  drunk  at  her  funeral,  of  which  the  mob 
made  a  formal  procession  with  torches." l 

All  over  the  country  it  was  the  same,  and  the 
Act  was  practically  abortive.  The  selling  of  gin 
was  carried  on  just  the  same,  sometimes  publicly  in 
the  shops,  more  often  by  hawkers  who  sold  it  about 
the  streets  in  flasks  and  bottles  under  fictitious 
names.  Some  of  these  names  were  odd  enough, 
such  as  "  Cuckold's  Comfort,"  "Make-Shift,"  "The 
Ladies'  Delight,"  "  Colic  and  Gripe  water,"  and  so 
forth.  Sometimes  the  gin  was  coloured  with  a 
drop  or  two  of  pink  fluid,  and  sold  in  bottles, 
labelled  :  "Take  two  or  three  spoonfuls  of  this  four 
or  five  times  a  day,  or  as  often  as  the  fit  takes 
you ".  The  Act  was  repealed  seven  years  later ; 
but  the  whole  of  its  unpopularity  now  fell  upon 
Walpole  and  the  Queen- Regent,  especially  on  the 
latter,  who  certainly  had  urged  its  passing,  as  she 
wished  to  abate  the  crying  scandal  of  drunkenness. 
The  Prince  of  Wales,  in  his  quest  for  popularity, 
sided  with  the  people,  and  was  said  to  have  been 
seen  drinking  gin  publicly  in  one  of  the  taverns  the 
very  day  the  Act  came  into  force. 

The  most  serious  riot  of  all  took  place,  not 
in  London  or  the  provinces,  but  in  Edinburgh. 
Scotland,  though  quelled  for  a  time  after  the  abortive 
rising  of  1715,  was  still  restless  under  Hanoverian 
rule,  and  it  needed  but  a  spark  to  set  the  discontent 

1The  Daily  Gazetteer,  2nd  October,  1736. 


in  a  blaze.  Scotland  had  never  been  reconciled  to 
the  Act  of  Union,  and  the  jealousy  of  any  inter- 
ference from  England  was  strongly  resented,  even 
by  many  of  those  who  refused  to  acknowledge 
James  as  their  King.  The  Porteous  Riots  served 
to  bring  matters  to  a  climax.  These  riots  had  their 
origin  in  a  small  matter.  Two  smugglers,  named 
Robertson  and  Wilson,  were  arrested  by  the 
officers  of  the  Crown  for  robbing  a  collector  of 
customs,  and  lay  in  the  Tolbooth,  or  city  gaol  of 
Edinburgh,  under  sentence  of  death.  Hanging  was 
the  punishment  for  smuggling  in  those  days,  but 
practically  the  severity  of  the  sentence  rendered  the 
Act  inoperative,  and  smuggling  was  winked  at  by 
many  honest  Scots  who  regarded  these  imposts  as 
an  unjust  aggression  upon  their  ancient  liberties. 
But  in  this  case  the  Government  determined  to 
make  an  example.  Great  sympathy  was  felt  for  the 
prisoners  by  the  people,  and  files  were  secretly  con- 
veyed to  them  from  outside  to  aid  their  escape.  The 
prisoners  freed  themselves  from  their  manacles,  and 
cut  through  a  bar  of  the  window.  Wilson  insisted 
on  going  first,  but  as  he  was  a  stout  man  he  got 
fixed  in  the  opening,  and  there  remained,  unable 
to  move  backwards  or  forwards.  In  this  plight  he 
was  found  in  the  morning,  and  the  escape  of  the 
prisoners  was  defeated.  Wilson  was  seized  with 
self-reproach  at  the  thought  that,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  his  wilfulness,  Robertson,  who  was  a  younger 
and  slimmer  man,  would  have  been  saved,  and  he 
determined  to  do  something  to  help  him. 


It  was  the  custom  in  those  days  for  condemned 
prisoners  to  be  taken  to  the  Tolbooth  church  the 
Sunday  before  their  execution,  and  be  preached  at. 
Robertson  and  Wilson  went  as  was  customary,  es- 
corted by  guards,  but  as  they  were  coming  out 
Wilson  attacked  the  guards  unexpectedly,  and  cried 
to  Robertson  to  escape.  In  the  confusion  the  latter 
managed  to  do  so  ;  he  jumped  over  the  pews,  and  was 
aided  by  the  sympathetic  congregation.  The  gener- 
ous conduct  of  Wilson  excited  great  popular  sym- 
pathy, but  Captain  John  Porteous,  who  was  in 
command  of  the  city  guard,  a  rough  and  brutal  man, 
especially  resented  the  saving  of  one  prisoner  by  the 
other,  and  determined  that  Wilson's  execution  should 
take  place  the  next  day.  In  this  decision  he  was 
hastened  by  a  rumour  that  Wilson  would  be  rescued 
from  the  gallows  by  the  mob.  He  ordered  a  double 
guard  around  the  scaffold,  and  was  said  to  have  forced 
the  unfortunate  victim  to  wear  handcuffs  much  too 
small  for  him  as  he  went  to  the  place  of  execution, 
though  the  latter  showed  him  his  bruised  and 
bleeding  wrists,  and  protested  against  this  barbarity. 
"  It  signifies  little,"  said  Porteous  brutally,  "  your 
pain  will  soon  be  at  an  end."  Wilson  answered  him 
in  words  that  were  afterwards  remembered  :  "  You 
know  not  how  soon  you  yourself  may  have  occasion 
to  ask  the  mercy  which  you  are  now  refusing  to  a 
fellow-creature.  May  God  forgive  you  !  " 

Wilson  was  hanged  by  the  neck  on  the  gibbet 
erected  in  the  Grassmarket,  and  the  execution  passed 
off  quietly  enough,  though  an  enormous  and  threaten- 


ing  crowd  had  assembled.  But  when  the  body  had 
hung  on  the  gibbet  for  some  time,  some  of  the  mob 
began  to  throw  stones  at  the  guards  and  a  rush  was 
made  for  the  scaffold  to  cut  down  the  body,  either 
to  give  it  decent  burial  or  to  see  if  it  could  be  resusci- 
tated. Porteous,  who  was  a  violent-tempered  man 
and  was  said  to  be  half-drunk,  ordered  the  soldiers 
to  fire  upon  the  crowd  and  even  stimulated  them  by 
snatching  a  musket  from  a  soldier  and  firing  it  him- 
self. Several  persons  were  wounded,  and  six  or 
seven  killed  on  the  spot.  The  firing  was  the  signal 
for  a  general  tumult ;  Porteous  and  his  soldiers 
withdrew  with  difficulty  to  the  guard-house,  pur- 
sued by  execrations  and  volleys  of  stones.  Local 
feeling  was  wholly  against  Porteous  ;  he  was  arrested 
for  ordering  the  soldiers  to  fire  upon  the  citizens, 
several  of  whom  had  taken  no  part  in  the  tumult. 
His  trial  took  place  before  the  High  Court  of  Justice 
in  Edinburgh,  and  he  was  found  guilty  and  condemned 
to  death.  He  was  to  be  hanged  on  September  8th, 
1736,  and  meanwhile  lay  in  the  Tolbooth.  He 
appealed  to  London,  and  the  Queen-Regent  in 
Council,  taking  into  consideration  the  provocation 
which  Porteous  had  received,  ordered  his  reprieve. 
When  this  reprieve  arrived  at  Edinburgh  from 
the  Secretary  of  State's  Office,  under  the  hand  of 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  the  agitation  that  arose  was 
almost  beyond  belief.  The  people,  who  had  been 
thirsting  for  the  death  of  Porteous,  were  like  tigers 
baulked  of  their  prey,  and  determined  to  take  the 
law  into  their  own  hands.  There  is  little  doubt 


that  the  Lord  Provost  and  city  authorities  were 
aware  of  what  was  going  to  take  place,  and  also  the 
General  in  command  of  the  troops  at  the  Castle. 
They  did  nothing  to  prevent  it,  for  their  sympathies 
were  with  the  people.  The  night  after  the  Queen's 
reprieve  arrived  in  Edinburgh,  a  fierce  mob  arose 
as  if  by  magic,  armed  with  pikes,  bayonets,  Loch- 
aber  axes,  and  any  arms  they  could  find,  and  headed 
by  a  man  dressed  in  woman's  clothes.  The  rioters 
made  themselves  masters  of  the  gates  of  the  city, 
disarmed  the  guard,  and  marched  to  the  Tolbooth, 
with  shouts  of  "  Porteous !  Porteous  !  "  The  un- 
happy man  within,  who  was  entertaining  a  party 
of  boon  companions  on  the  cheerful  news  of  his 
reprieve,  saw  the  glare  of  the  torches,  heard  the 
cries,  and  recognised  in  them  the  shout  of  his  doom. 
His  friends  made  off  as  fast  as  they  could,  the 
turnkeys  were  seized  with  panic  and  ran  away,  and 
many  prisoners  escaped.  Porteous  concealed  him- 
self in  the  chimney  of  his  cell.  For  some  time  the 
old  door  of  the  Tolbooth,  which  was  of  stout  oak, 
heavily  clamped  with  iron,  resisted  the  onslaughts 
of  the  rioters,  but  at  last  they  burned  it  down,  and 
leaping  over  the  embers  rushed  into  the  prison  in 
search  of  their  prey.  The  miserable  man  was  soon 
discovered,  dragged  from  the  chimney,  carried  out- 
side and  hanged  in  the  sight  of  the  mob  from  an 
improvised  gibbet  made  of  a  barber's  pole.  The 
crowd  then  dispersed  as  suddenly  and  mysteriously 
as  it  had  assembled  ;  the  method  and  precision  with 
which  the  ringleaders  carried  out  their  work,  and  the 


celerity  with  which  they  dispersed,  showed  there 
was  method  in  this  rough  justice,  and  that  it  was 
rather  the  result  of  a  conspiracy  than  an  ordinary 
riot.  The  next  morning  not  a  sign  remained  of 
the  night's  dread  work  except  the  body  of  Porteous 
hanging  from  the  pole. 

When  the  news  reached  London  the  Queen  was 
furious  at  the  insult  which  she  conceived  had  been 
especially  aimed  at  her  authority  as  Regent,  and 
gave  vent  to  language  which  for  vigour  would  have 
done  credit  to  her  exemplar,  Queen  Elizabeth.  For 
the  only  time  on  record  Caroline  thoroughly  lost 
her  temper.  She  hastily  summoned  a  council  and 
proposed  the  wildest  measures.  The  charter  of 
Edinburgh,  she  said,  must  be  withdrawn,  the 
Provost  must  be  incapacitated  from  ever  holding 
office  again,  the  commander  of  the  garrison  must 
be  cashiered,  and  fines  and  imprisonment  were  to 
be  the  order  of  the  day.  The  Duke  of  Argyll 
endeavoured  to  put  in  a  moderating  word  on  behalf 
of  his  countrymen.  The  Queen  turned  on  him  with 
fury,  and  said  that  sooner  than  brook  such  an  insult 
she  would  make  Scotland  a  hunting  ground.  "In 
that  case,  madam,"  said  the  duke  with  a  bow,  "  I 
will  take  leave  of  your  Majesty,  and  go  down  to  my 
own  country  to  get  my  hounds  ready."  Caroline 
recognised  the  covert  threat  in  the  duke's  words, 
and  adjourned  the  council.  Fortunately  her  anger 
was  not  of  a  kind  to  last  long,  and  wiser  counsels 
prevailed.  The  Scottish  peers  defended  their 
countrymen  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  in  the  end 


a  compromise  was  arrived  at,  by  which  the  City  of 
Edinburgh  had  to  pay  a  nominal  fine  of  .£2,000, 
and  the  Provost  was  disgraced. 

It  was  on  the  Porteous  Riots  that  Sir  Walter 
Scott  wrote  his  celebrated  novel,  The  Heart  of 
Midlothian.  He  introduces  Queen  Caroline  in 
connection  with  Jeannie  Deans,  who  walked  all 
the  way  from  Edinburgh  to  London  to  plead  the 
cause  of  her  sister,  Effie  Deans,  who  was  sentenced 
to  death  according  to  Scottish  law  for  concealing 
the  birth  of  her  illegitimate  child.  The  father 
of  this  child,  according  to  Scott's  romance,  was 
Robertson,  the  prisoner  who  had  escaped,  and  who 
was  supposed  to  have  headed  the  mob  against 
Porteous.  Of  course,  in  a  novel  a  good  deal  of 
fiction  is  reared  on  a  slender  basis  of  fact,  and  Scott 
makes  some  little  mistakes.  For  example,  in  the 
Queen's  interview  with  Jeannie  Deans  he  makes 
Lady  Suffolk  be  in  attendance,  instead  of  Lady 
Sundon  (Mrs.  Clayton),  whereas  Lady  Suffolk  had 
left  the  court  two  years  before ;  he  also  places  the 
Queen's  palace  at  Richmond,  where  the  interview 
took  place,  in  Richmond  Park,  whereas  it  was  in 
Richmond  Gardens.  But  this  much  at  least  is  true, 
and  may  be  quoted  as  one  of  the  many  instances  of 
the  Queen's  kindness  of  heart.  A  certain  Scottish 
peasant  woman  named  Helen  Walker  actually  did 
walk  from  Edinburgh  to  London,  to  plead  with  the 
Queen-Regent  on  behalf  of  her  sister,  then  lying 
under  sentence  of  death  in  the  Tolbooth  in  Edin- 
burgh. The  sister,  who  was  called  Isabella,  or 


Tibbie  Walker,  had  secretly  given  birth  to  an 
illegitimate  child,  which  shortly  afterwards  died,  and 
by  the  Scottish  law  of  those  days  she  was  adjudged, 
by  wilfully  concealing  her  condition,  to  have  been 
guilty  of  its  death.  At  the  trial  of  this  wretched 
girl,  her  sister  Helen,  a  rigid  Presbyterian,  was 
unwillingly  the  principal  witness  against  her  sister. 
When  she  was  asked  whether  Tibbie,  whom  she 
dearly  loved,  had  ever  made  known  to  her  the  fact 
of  her  condition,  she  refused  to  perjure  herself  by 
saying  that  she  had,  saying :  "It  is  impossible  for 
me  to  swear  a  falsehood  "  ;  and  thus  gave  away  her 
sister's  sole  chance  of  release.  According  to  the 
Scottish  law,  six  weeks  had  to  elapse  between  the 
sentence  and  the  execution,  and  in  that  time  Helen 
Walker  got  up  a  petition  praying  the  Queen  for  her 
sister's  reprieve,  signed  by  some  of  the  principal 
residents  in  Edinburgh,  and  armed  with  this  she 
made  her  way  to  London  on  foot.  Arrived  there  she 
presented  herself,  clad  in  tartan  plaid  and  country 
attire,  before  John,  the  great  Duke  of  Argyll,  who 
was  regarded  in  Scotland  as  a  protector  of  the  poor. 
To  him  she  made  appeal.  The  Duke  of  Argyll  told 
the  whole  story  to  the  Queen,  who  was  so  much 
touched  at  the  girl's  honesty  in  refusing  to  perjure 
herself,  and  her  sisterly  devotion  in  making  this 
long  pilgrimage,  that  she  granted  the  pardon  at 
once,  and  Helen  Walker  returned  with  it  to  Edin- 
burgh in  time  to  save  her  sister.  She  had  trusted 
"in  the  Almighty's  strength,"  she  said.  Whether 
the  Queen  gave  audience  to  Helen  Walker  or  not 


is  uncertain  (it  would  have  been  characteristic  of 
her  if  she  had  done  so),  but  the  other  facts  of  the 
case  are  well  authenticated. 

These  exciting  public  events  kept  the  Queen- 
Regent  busy  throughout  the  summer  and  early 
autumn,  and  gave  her  less  time  to  think  about  her 
private  troubles.  But  when  the  time  drew  near 
for  the  King  to  return  to  England,  and  he  still  lin- 
gered at  Hanover,  she  became  anxious  ;  and  when  he 
wrote  to  say  that  he  could  not  be  back  in  England  for 
his  birthday,  October  3Oth,  as  he  had  always  done 
before,  her  tolerance  and  endurance  began  to  give 
way.  She  took  his  absence  on  his  birthday  as  a 
personal  slight  to  herself,  a  sign  to  all  the  world 
that  her  influence  over  him  had  waned,  owing  to 
his  passion  for  another.  Her  letters  to  the  King, 
which  were  usually  of  great  length,  giving  him  full 
details  of  everything  which  took  place,  now  became 
fewer  and  shorter,  and  no  doubt  abated  propor- 
tionately in  warmth. 

Walpole  and  the  Queen  had  hitherto  affected 
to  treat  the  King's  affair  with  Madame  Walmoden 
as  a  joke,  but  now  they  recognised  that  it  was 
beyond  a  joke  and  might  become  a  public  danger 
as  it  already  was  a  public  scandal.  They  therefore 
put  affectation  aside  and  looked  the  matter  in  the 
face.  Walpole  repeated,  with  even  greater  frank- 
ness, the  views  he  had  expressed  on  the  subject 
some  time  before,  and  he  told  the  Queen  that  she 
could  no  longer  keep  the  King  to  her  side  by  the 
arts  and  charms  she  had  employed  when  she  was  a 


younger  woman.  He  therefore  recommended  that 
she  should  maintain  her  influence  by  accepting  the 
situation  and  making  the  best  of  it.  Since  the  King 
would  not  live  anywhere  long  without  his  Walmoden, 
the  Queen  must  go  so  far  as  to  ask  him  to  bring  her 
to  England.  The  Queen  wept  bitterly  when  the 
Prime  Minister  gave  her  this  advice,  but  at  last 
declared  that  she  would  do  as  he  suggested.  Wai- 
pole,  profligate  and  cynical  though  he  was,  had  his 
doubts  at  first  whether  the  Queen,  as  a  wife  and  a 
woman,  would  carry  her  complaisance  thus  far.  Two 
or  three  days  after,  when  he  met  her  walking  in  the 
gardens  at  Richmond,  she  taxed  him  with  not  be- 
lieving that  she  would  keep  her  promise.  Walpole 
replied  :  "  Madam,  your  Majesty  in  asking  if  I 
disbelieved  you,  would  put  a  word  into  my  mouth 
so  coarse  that  I  could  not  give  it  place  even  in  my 
thoughts,  but  if  you  oblige  me  to  answer  this  question 
I  confess  I  feared".  "Well,"  replied  the  Queen, 
"  I  understand  what  '  I  feared '  means  on  this  oc- 
casion. To  show  you  that  your  fears  were  ill-founded 
I  have  considered  what  you  said  to  me,  and  am  de- 
termined this  very  day  to  write  to  the  King  just  as 
you  would  have  me,  and  on  Monday  when  we  meet  at 
Kensington  you  shall  see  the  letter."  Accordingly 
Caroline  wrote  the  letter  and  despatched  it  to  her 
faithless  husband,  assuring  him  that  she  had  nothing 
but  his  happiness  at  heart,  and  urging  him  to  bring 
the  Walmoden  to  England  if  such  a  step  would 
conduce  to  it.  Heaven  knows  what  mortification 
and  anguish  the  Queen  suffered  before  she  brought 


herself  to  write  that  letter.  She  has  been  greatly 
blamed  by  the  moralists  for  writing  it,  but  the  great 
excuse  that  can  be  urged  for  her  is  that  her  action 
was  strongly  dictated  by  political  expediency,  for 
the  King's  prolonged  absence  at  Hanover  was 
bringing  his  throne  into  peril. 

The  Queen  went  further  in  her  abasement,  and 
even  considered  the  possibility  of  taking  Madame 
Walmoden  into  her  personal  service  in  the  same 
position  that  Lady  Suffolk  had  occupied,  and  so 
throwing  an  air  of  respectability  over  the  arrange- 
ment. But  from  this  Walpole  dissuaded  her, 
pointing  out  that  it  would  deceive  no  one,  and 
defeat  its  object,  for  the  world  would  be  scandal- 
ised if  the  Queen  made  the  King's  mistress  one 
of  her  servants,  which  he  said  was  a  different  thing 
from  the  King's  making  one  of  the  Queen's  ser- 
vants his  mistress,  as  had  been  done  in  the  case 
of  Lady  Suffolk — a  nice  distinction.  The  King  was 
delighted  with  his  Queen's  complaisance,  and  soon 
sent  her  an  answer  many  pages  long,  in  which  he 
praised  her  to  the  skies.  He  said  that  he  wished  to 
be  everything  that  she  would  have  him  to  be,  but  she 
knew  his  nature,  and  must  make  allowances  for  it. 
"  Mais  vous  voyez  mes  passions  ma  chkre  Caroline ! 
Vous  connaissez  mes  foiblesses,  il  riy  a  rien  de  cacht 
dans  mon  cceur  pour  vous,  et  plut  a  Dieu  que  vous 
pourriez  me  corriger  avec  la  m£me  facility  que  vous 
m  approfondissez  /  Plut  a  Dieu  que  je pourrais  vous 
imiter  autant  que  je  sais  vous  admirer,  et  que  je 
pourrais  apprendre  de  vous  toutes  les  vertus  que 


VGUS  me  faites  voir,  sentir,  et  aimer!"  The  King 
then  gave  for  the  Queen's  delectation  a  detailed 
description  of  the  Walmoden's  personal  charms, 
over  which  Caroline  must  have  made  a  wry 
face.  He  desired  that  Lady  Suffolk's  lodgings 
should  be  made  ready  for  her,  as  she  would  avail 
herself  of  the  Queen's  kind  permission  to  make  her 
home  in  England.  The  Queen  showed  the  King's 
letter  to  Walpole,  and  said  :  "  Well  now,  Sir  Robert, 
I  hope  you  are  satisfied.  You  see  this  minion  is 
coming  to  England."  But  Walpole  shook  his  head, 
and  said  that  he  did  not  believe  she  would  come, 
for  she  was  afraid  of  the  Queen.  He  had  pro- 
bably received  advices  from  his  brother  Horace 
at  Hanover  telling  him  that  Madame  Walmoden 
was  not  such  a  fool  as  they  thought  her.  His 
surmise  proved  correct,  for,  though  the  Queen  made 
ready  the  lodgings,  the  Walmoden  thought  dis- 
cretion the  better  part  of  valour,  and  remembering 
the  fate  of  Lady  Suffolk,  wisely  elected  to  stay  at 

The  question  whether  Madame  Walmoden  would 
come  or  not  agitated  the  court,  especially  the  Queen's 
household.  Some  declared  that  it  would  be  an 
outrage  and  do  infinite  harm ;  others  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  it  would  be  better  to  bring  her  over, 
for  if  she  kept  the  King  so  long  in  Hanover, 
thus  exasperating  the  English  people,  he  would  go 
there  once  too  often,  and  the  nation  would  never  let 
him  come  back.  The  scandal  gradually  filtered  down 
through  the  court  to  the  people.  They  did  not  under- 


stand  why  the  King's  absence  should  be  so  prolonged, 
and  sought  a  cause.  No  one  wanted  him  back  for 
his  own  sake,  but  it  was  said  that  trade  suffered 
because  the  King  was  not  in  London,  and  the  dis- 
affected seized  upon  his  predilection  for  Hanover 
as  a  pretext  for  their  disaffection.  Many  honest 
people  pitied  the  Queen,  a  virtuous  matron,  they 
declared,  who  should  not  be  used  so  ill,  and  they 
thought  it  was  ridiculous  for  the  King  at  his  age, 
close  on  sixty,  with  a  wife  and  family,  to  be  playing 
the  gallant,  when  he  ought  to  be  setting  an  example 
to  the  nation.  The  most  extraordinary  bills  and 
satires  were  printed  and  posted  up  in  different  parts 
of  the  town  ;  one  ran  to  this  effect : — 

"  It  is  reported  that  his  Hanoverian  Majesty 
designs  to  visit  his  British  dominions  for  three 
months  in  the  spring." 

On  the  gate  of  St.  James's  Palace  a  more  daring 
bill  was  posted  : — 

"  Lost  or  strayed  out  of  this  house  a  man  who 
has  left  a  wife  and  six  children  on  the  parish  ;  who- 
ever will  give  any  tidings  of  him  to  the  church- 
wardens of  St.  James's  parish,  so  that  he  may  be 
got  again,  shall  receive  four  shillings  and  sixpence 
reward.  N.B. — This  reward  will  not  be  increased, 
nobody  judging  him  to  deserve  a  crown." 

One  day  in  the  City  an  old  broken-down  horse 
was  turned  out  with  a  ragged  saddle  on  its  back, 
and  a  woman's  pillion  stuck  up  behind  it.  On  the 
horse's  forehead  was  fastened  this  inscription  :  "  Let 
nobody  stop  me,  I  am  the  King's  Hanoverian 


equipage  going  to  fetch  his  Majesty  and  his  w — 
to  England." 

In  the  autumn  the  Queen  removed  her  court  from 
Hampton  Court  to  Kensington.  The  King  sent  her 
word  from  Hanover  that  she  could  go  to  St.  James's 
if  she  liked,  but  as  she  was  afraid  of  arousing  his 
jealousy  by  keeping  too  much  state,  or  perhaps 
because  she  did  not  care  to  show  herself  much  in 
public  under  present  circumstances,  she  declined,  and 
only  went  to  St.  James's  to  celebrate  the  King's 
birthday.  The  displeasure  at  his  absence  was  very 
marked  at  the  birthday  drawing-room ;  the  atten- 
dance was  meagre,  and  the  clothes  positively  shabby. 
The  Queen  affected  to  notice  nothing  unusual,  but 
the  Prince  of  Wales  openly  expressed  his  approval 
of  these  signs  of  dissatisfaction,  and  deliberately 
played  on  his  sire's  unpopularity  to  make  himself 
more  popular.  But  though  the  Queen  was  outwardly 
calm  she  was  inwardly  much  concerned,  and  she 
made  representations  so  urgent  to  the  King  that 
at  last  he  gave  the  long-deferred  orders  for  the 
royal  yacht  to  set  out  for  Holland. 

On  December  7th  (1736),  after  giving  a  ball 
and  a  farewell  supper  at  Herrenhausen,  the  King 
tore  himself  away  from  Hanover  and  his  Walmoden. 
He  arrived  four  days  later  at  Helvoetsluys,  where 
the  yacht  was  awaiting  him.  His  daughter,  the 
Princess  of  Orange,  lay  in  a  very  perilous  child- 
bed at  the  Hague,  and  had  urgently  asked  her 
father  to  come  and  see  her  on  his  way  home, 
but  the  King  would  *not  leave  his  mistress  a  few 


hours  sooner  so  as  to  give  himself  time  to  visit  his 

It  was  soon  known  in  London  that  the  King 
had  set  out  from  Hanover,  and  the  Queen  anxiously 
awaited  his  return,  she  being  the  only  person  in 
England  who  really  cared  whether  he  came  back  or 
not.  But  a  great  storm  arose  at  sea,  which  lasted  for 
many  days,  and  the  King  came  not,  nor  any  tidings 
of  him,  though  a  hundred  messages  a  day  passed 
between  St.  James's  Palace,  where  the  Queen  wasr 
and  the  Admiralty.  No  one  knew  whether  the  King 
had  embarked  at  Helvoetsluys  or  not ;  but  it  was 
thought  certain  that,  if  he  had  embarked,  his  vessel 
must  go  down,  as  no  ship  could  withstand  the  tre- 
mendous seas  then  running.  As  the  days  went  by  and 
no  news  came,  the  suspense  at  court  became  great. 
Wagers  were  freely  laid  on  whether  the  King  was 
drowned  or  not ;  many  people  opined  that  he  was, 
and  the  wish  was  often  father  to  the  thought.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  went  about  everywhere,  showing 
himself  freely  to  the  people.  When  the  Queen's 
anxiety  was  at  its  worst  he  gave  a  dinner  to  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  and  made  them  a 
speech,  which  was  loudly  praised.  The  Queen, 
who  was  greatly  incensed  that  the  Prince  should 
give  this  dinner  at  such  a  time,  asked  particulars 
about  it  the  next  morning,  and  when  she  was  told 
how  well  it  had  passed  off,  and  how  popular  the 
Prince  was  becoming,  she  exclaimed  :  "  My  Godr 
popularity  always  makes  me  sick,  but  Fritz's  popu- 
larity makes  me  vomit.  I  hear  that  yesterday,  on 


his  side  of  the  house,  they  talked  of  the  King's 
being  cast  away  with  the  same  sang-froid  as  you 
would  talk  of  a  coach  being  overturned,  and  that 
my  good  son  strutted  about  as  if  he  had  been 
already  King." 

Walpole  and  his  friends  about  the  court  were 
much  exercised  as  to  what  would  happen  to  the  Queen 
if  the  King  were  really  drowned,  and  the  Prince 
ascended  the  throne.  Walpole  declared  that  "he 
(the  Prince)  would  tear  the  flesh  off  her  bones  with 
hot  irons,"  so  much  did  he  hate  his  mother.  Lord 
Hervey,  on  the  other  hand,  thought  that  he  would 
probably  make  use  of  the  Queen's  great  knowledge 
and  experience  in  the  management  of  affairs,  and 
her  position  would  not  become  so  intolerable  as 
some  imagined.  The  Princess  Caroline  differed 
from  him.  "  My  good  lord,"  she  said,  "you  must 
know  very  little  of  him  if  you  believe  that,  for  in 
the  first  place,  he  hates  mamma,  in  the  next,  he 
has  so  good  an  opinion  of  himself  that  he  thinks  he 
wants  no  advice,  and  of  all  advice,  no  woman's." 
She  said  also  that  the  moment  he  was  King  "she 
would  run  out  of  the  house,  au  grand  galop  ".  But 
the  Queen  declared  that  she  would  not  budge  an 
inch  before  she  was  compelled  to  go. 

This  uncertainty  continued  for  more  than  a 
week,  and  one  morning  the  Prince  of  Wales,  with 
a  satisfaction  he  could  ill  conceal,  came  to  the 
Queen  with  the  news  that  he  had  received  a  letter 
from  a  correspondent  near  Harwich  saying  that  the 
night  before  guns  had  been  heard  at  sea,  signals  of 

VOL.    II.  21 


distress,  and  part  of  the  fleet  that  escorted  the  King's 
yacht  had  been  dispersed.  The  poor  Queen  passed 
a  day  of  the  greatest  anxiety  and  depression,  but  at 
night  a  King's  messenger,  who  had  been  three  days  at 
sea,  and  had  landed  by  a  miracle  at  Yarmouth,  arrived 
at  the  palace  with  a  letter  from  the  King,  telling  the 
Queen  that  he  had  not  yet  stirred  out  of  Helvoet- 
sluys.  Directly  the  Queen  read  the  letter  she  cried 
out  to  the  whole  court :  "  The  King  is  safe !  the 
King  is  safe ! "  with  a  joy  that  showed  how  greatly 
she  had  feared. 

The  Queen's  satisfaction  did  not  last  long.     A 

Xi  O 

few  days  later,  the  wind  having  calmed,  it  was 
understood  that  the  King  had  embarked.  Suddenly 
the  gales  arose  fiercer  than  before,  and  everybody 
thought  that  he  was  at  sea  and  in  great  danger. 
No  word  of  the  King  reached  the  court  for  ten 
days  more,  and  then  a  vessel  that  had  set  out  with 
the  King  from  Helvoetsluys,  and  continued  with 
the  fleet  until  the  storm  arose,  brought  news  that 
the  royal  yacht  had  been  seen  to  tack  about,  but 
whether  to  return  to  the  harbour  or  not  it  was 
impossible  to  say.  The  tempests  continued  to  rage 
with  unabated  violence,  and  from  accounts  that 
reached  the  court  of  guns  of  distress  and  ship- 
wrecks, there  seemed  little  doubt  that  the  King 
by  now  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  The  Queen 
lost  all  hope  and  broke  down  and  wept  bitterly.  In 
the  Prince's  apartments  everything  wore  a  subdued 
air  of  excitement ;  messengers  ran  to  and  fro,  and  it 
was  said  that  the  Prince  already  considered  himself 


King  of  England.  The  Queen,  hearing  this,  roused 
herself  and  determined  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the 
matter,  and  on  Sunday  December  26th,  she  went 
to  the  Chapel  Royal  as  usual.  She  had  not  been 
in  chapel  more  than  half  an  hour  when  a  letter 
arrived  from  the  King  telling  her  that  it  was  true 
he  had  set  out  from  Helvoetsluys,  but  owing  to  the 
violence  of  the  tempest  he  had  put  back  again,  with 
great  difficulty,  into  port,  where  he  still  was  de- 
tained by  contrary  winds.  It  afterwards  transpired 
that  the  King  had  insisted  on  going  forward,  and 
only  the  good  sense  of  the  admiral  in  command  of 
the  fleet,  who  flatly  refused  to  obey  orders,  saved 
his  life. 

The  Queen  now  wrote  to  the  King,  telling  him 
all  her  hopes  and  fears  and  sufferings.  She  also 
told  him  of  the  Prince's  conduct  when  it  was 
thought  that  he  was  drowned,  and  how  the  dif- 
ferent courtiers  and  Ministers  behaved,  The  King 
wrote  a  letter  of  great  length  in  answer,  full  of 
the  most  passionate  tenderness.  He  no  longer 
dilated  on  the  charms  of  the  Walmoden,  but  on 
those  of  the  Queen,  expressing  his  impatience  to 
rejoin  her,  and  depicting  her  as  "a  perfect  Venus". 
The  Queen  could  not  forbear  showing  this  letter  to 
Walpole,  who  had  told  her  so  frankly  that  her  beauty 
had  gone,  and  said  :  "  Do  not  think  because  I  show 
you  this  that  I  am  an  old  fool  and  vain  of  my  person 
and  charms  of  this  time  of  day  ".  But  it  was  evident 
that  she  was  very  much  pleased. 

There    was   no   popular    enthusiasm  about   the 


King's  safety,  and  one  of  the  topical  jests  was  "  How 
is  the  wind  with  the  King  ?  Like  the  nation  against 
him."  While  the  King  was  still  away,  waiting  at 
Helvoetsluys  for  the  wind  to  change,  a  great  fire 
broke  out  at  the  Temple  and  the  Prince  of  Wales 
went  at  midnight  to  help  extinguish  it.  He  was 
hailed  by  the  crowd  with  shouts  of  "  Crown  him  ! 
Crown  him  ! ! "  and  the  same  cry  was  heard  when 
he  appeared  at  the  theatre.  However,  any  im- 
mediate question  of  crowning  him  was  put  at  rest 
by  the  return  of  the  King,  who  arrived  at  St. 
James's  on  January  I5th,  1737,  after  a  detention 
at  Helvoetsluys  of  five  weeks  and  an  absence 
from  England  of  more  than  eight  months.  The 
Queen,  accompanied  by  all  her  children,  including 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  went  down  to  the  courtyard 
of  the  palace  to  receive  him  as  he  alighted  from 
his  coach.  The  King  embraced  her  with  great 
affection,  and  then  gave  her  his  arm  to  conduct 
her  upstairs.  A  council  was  held  the  same  day  and 
the  Queen  surrendered  into  the  King's  hands  her 
office  of  Regent. 




THE  King's  narrow  escape  from  drowning  really 
seemed  to  have  given  him  a  lesson,  for  he  behaved 
much  better  on  his  return  to  England  than  he  had 
done  before  he  went  to  Hanover.  He  treated  the 
Queen  with  great  affection  and  respect,  and  praised 
her  frequently  before  all  the  court.  He  no  longer 
abused  England  and  extolled  Hanover,  and  he 
did  not  so  much  as  mention  Madame  Walmoden. 
Perhaps  the  state  of  his  health  had  something  to 
do  with  his  change  of  conduct ;  he  had  contracted  a 
chill  on  his  journey  home,  which  soon  after  his  re- 
turn developed  into  a  low  fever.  For  some  time 
the  King  was  very  unwell ;  he  kept  to  his  own 
apartments  and  saw  no  one  but  the  Queen  and, 
when  it  was  absolutely  necessary,  Walpole.  Ex- 
aggerated rumours  soon  spread  abroad  concerning 
his  condition,  though  the  King  himself,  the  Queen 
and  the  Princesses  made  light  of  it.  Still  the 
King  grew  no  better,  and  at  last  the  Ministers  be- 
came anxious,  and  Walpole  taxed  the  Queen  with 
concealing  the  King's  true  state  of  health,  an  impu- 


tation  which  she  indignantly  denied.  The  Prince 
of  Wales  and  his  friends  declared  that  the  King's 
constitution  had  quite  broken  up,  and,  even  if  he 
recovered  from  this  illness,  it  was  unlikely  that  he 
would  long  survive.  This  was  a  little  too  much  for 
the  King,  and  by  way  of  showing  that  he  was  not 
dead  yet,  he  roused  himself  from  his  lethargy, 
quitted  his  chamber  and  resumed  his  levees.  It 
was  noticed  that  he  looked  pale  and  thin,  and  it  was 
generally  thought  he  would  not  live  long,  though, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  grew  better  every  day  after 
he  quitted  his  chamber. 

The  King's  ill-health  had  the  result  of  bringing 
the  Prince  of  Wales  more  prominently  before  the 
public.  It  was  felt  by  many  courtiers  and  politicians 
that  his  coming  to  the  throne  was  only  a  question  of 
a  little  time,  and  they  were  anxious  to  stand  well 
with  him.  The  alliance  between  the  Prince  and  the 
Patriots  now  became  closer,  and  the  Prince  gave 
the  Opposition  his  open  support  in  return  for  their 
championing  his  grievances,  which  he  was  deter- 
mined to  have  redressed  by  fair  means  or  foul.  He 
had  written,  or  caused  to  be  written,  IHistoire 
du  Prince  Titi,  in  which  his  wrongs  were  set  forth 
in  detail,  and  the  King  and  Queen  abused  under 
transparent  pseudonyms.  Translations  of  this  work 
were  circulated  about  this  time,  and  gave  great 
offence  at  the  court,  but  they  influenced  to  some 
extent  popular  feeling  in  his  favour.  The  Prince 
took  the  leaders  of  the  Opposition  into  his  confi- 
dence, especially  rising  men  like  Pitt  and  Lyttelton. 


Perhaps  it  was  these  younger  and  more  fiery  spirits 
who  urged  him  to  act  upon  the  advice  of  Boling- 
broke,  and  set  the  King  at  defiance,  though  it  was 
generally  supposed  that  Chesterfield  prompted  him. 
Certain  it  was  that  the  Prince  saw  in  his  father's 
illness  an  opportunity  of  bringing  his  claims  before 
Parliament,  and  determined  to  delay  no  longer. 
The  Prince  requested  the  leaders  of  the  Opposition 
to  raise  the  question  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
Some  were  at  first  reluctant,  but  influenced  no  doubt 
by  the  King's  ill-health,  Pulteney  at  last  consented 
to  bring  forward  the  question,  and  Wyndham  and 
Barnard  agreed  to  support  him. 

When  the  King  and  Queen  heard  the  news  they 
were  thrown  into  an  extraordinary  state  of  agitation. 
The  King  was  beside  himself  with  rage ;  the  Queen 
declared  that  all  these  disputes  would  kill  her.  The 
Government,  too,  were  in  a  difficult  position.  The 
Prince's  demand  that  he  should  have  his  ,£100,000 
a  year,  and  a  dowry  for  the  Princess  was,  on  the 
face  of  it,  reasonable,  and,  what  was  more  important, 
popular  ;  Ministers  could  not  be  sure  of  their  major- 
ity, and  might  suffer  defeat.  Walpole  endeavoured 
to  effect  a  compromise,  and  after  great  difficulty 
induced  the  King  to  send  a  message  to  the  Prince 
the  day  before  the  motion  came  on  in  the  House, 
saying  that  he  was  prepared  to  settle  .£50,000  a 
year  on  him  absolutely,  and  to  give  the  Princess  a 
dowry.  The  Prince  declined  to  consider  the 
message,  saying  that  the  matter  was  in  other  hands. 

The  next  day,  February  22nd  (1737),  Pulteney 


brought  forward  his  motion  in  a  moderate  speech, 
basing  his  main  argument  on  precedent,  and  the 
right  of  the  heir-apparent  to  the  Crown  to  enjoy  a 
sufficient  and  settled  income.  Walpole  in  his  reply 
laid  stress  upon  the  King's  message  to  the  Prince 
the  previous  day,  as  showing  how  far  the  King  was 
anxious  to  meet  his  son's  wishes.  He  held  that 
Parliamentary  interference  between  father  and  son 
would  be  highly  indecorous.  In  the  end  the  Prince's 
claims  were  rejected  by  a  majority  of  thirty.  This 
small  majority  would  really  have  been  reduced  to  a 
minority  if  forty-five  Tories  with  Jacobite  leanings 
had  not  left  the  House  in  a  body,  unwilling  to  give 
any  vote  in  favour  of  the  heir  of  Hanover,  even 
though  by  doing  so  they  would  defeat  the  Govern- 

The  King  and  the  Queen  were  overjoyed  at  the 
Prince's  defeat,  and,  in  the  first  flush  of  victory,  the 
King  was  inclined  to  follow  up  his  advantage  by 
turning  his  son  immediately  out  of  St.  James's 
Palace  in  the  same  way  as  (he  might  have  remem- 
bered, but  did  not)  his  father  had  turned  him  out. 
Walpole  dissuaded  the  King  from  taking  so  extreme 
a  step,  and  then  proceeded  to  urge  him  to  make 
good  his  promise  to  settle  a  jointure  on  the  Princess, 
and  make  over  ,£50,000  a  year  to  his  son  absolutely. 
To  this  the  King  now  demurred,  though  Walpole 
pointed  out  to  him  that  the  victory  in  the  House  of 
Commons  had  only  been  gained  on  the  understand- 
ing that  the  King  would  carry  out  his  pledges.  The 
difficulty  was  complicated  by  the  Prince  continuing 


impenitent.  So  far  from  being  downcast  by  his 
defeat  in  the  House  of  Commons,  he  called  a 
council  of  all  his  friends,  and  it  was  resolved  to 
raise  the  question  anew  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
Lord  Carteret  undertaking  to  bring  forward  the 
motion,  and  Chesterfield  to  support  it.  Here,  too, 
he  lost,  but  public  sympathy  was  undoubtedly  with 
him,  and  to  prevent  the  scandal  from  growing,  Wai- 
pole,  Newcastle,  and  indeed  all  the  King's  Ministers, 
urged  the  necessity  of  a  settlement.  One  was 
eventually  made,  though  not  until  much  later,  by 
the  King  settling  .£50,000  a  year  on  the  Prince 
absolutely,  together  with  .£10,000  a  year  from  the 
Duchy  of  Cornwall,  and  Parliament  making  up  the 
rest  by  giving  an  unusually  large  jointure  to  the 
Princess  of  Wales. 

The  King  and  Queen  were  much  disgusted  at 
what  they  considered  the  Government's  half-hearted- 
ness,  and  included  in  their  displeasure  the  Whigs 
generally,  who  had  certainly  wavered  in  their  devo- 
tion to  the  court  when  they  heard  that  the  King's 
health  was  so  bad.  "If  the  Whigs  can  be  so  little 
depended  upon  in  the  King's  interest,"  said  the 
Queen,  "  we  might  as  well  send  for  the  Tories,  who 
are  only  too  willing  to  come  ;  the  King  has  only  to 
beckon  to  them."  She  did,  not  mean  what  she  said, 
but  Walpole  became  alarmed.  His  majority  was  not 
so  large  that  he  could  pose  any  longer  as  a  dictator, 
or  afford  to  dispense  with  the  Queen's  favour  and 
support.  He  knew  that  Lady  Sundon  was  in- 
triguing against  him,  and  that  she  had  had  several 


interviews  with  Lord  Carteret.     Carteret  now  ex- 
pressed his  great  regret  at  having  championed  the 
Prince's  cause  ;  he  said  he  was  driven  into  it  against 
his  better  judgment ;   he  was   full    of  the   Queen's 
praises,  and  vowed   that  he  would  do  anything  to 
serve  her.      He  declared  that  he  had  great  influence 
over  the  Opposition  leaders,  especially  Pulteney  and 
Wyndham,  and  could  bring  them  to  the  Queen's  side 
if  she  would  only  make  the  sign.      All  this  was  duly 
repeated  by  Lady  Sundon  to  the  Queen,  who  listened 
but  did  nothing.     She  never  intended  to  do  any- 
thing, but  she  thought  it  well  to  bring  Walpole  to 
his    bearings,    and    in    this    she  quickly   succeeded. 
Walpole  came  to   her,  and   told   her  that   he   had 
heard  of  Carteret's  overtures,  and  warned  her  not 
to    trust    him.      The    Whigs   he    urged    were    the 
natural    support  of  the    Hanoverian   family,  which 
was  certainly  true,  since  they  had  brought  them  over 
to  England,  and  the  Tories  were  but  a  broken  reed. 
Caroline  agreed  with  all  he  said,  but  fell  back  upon 
the  lukewarm  support  which  the  Whigs  had  given 
the   King.     Even  Walpole,  she  said,  had  regarded 
the    Prince's    conduct    in    too    favourable    a    light. 
Walpole  told  her  that  he  had  only  striven  to  bring 
the  Prince  to  reason,  but  he  now  owned  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake.    The  Queen,  he  said,  should  never 
again  have  cause  to  complain  of  him  on  that  score, 
he  saw  that  the  Prince  must  be  overcome.       The 
Queen  said  she  only  wanted  him  to  assure  her  on 
that  point,  and  she  dismissed  him  with  many  assur- 
ances that  she  would  never  cease  to  support  him. 


The  immediate  result  of  this  reconciliation  was  to 
strengthen  the  alliance  between  the  Prince  and  the 
Patriots,  who  now  saw  in  Frederick  their  only  hope 
of  ever  gaining  office. 

These  events  took  place  quite  early  in  the 
Session,  but  when  Parliament  rose  the  King  said 
nothing  about  going  to  Hanover  as  Ministers  had 
feared.  In  truth  he  was  afraid  to  go,  for  he  knew 
that  Frederick  would  seize  upon  it  as  a  pretext  for 
some  fresh  intrigue,  and  the  country  was  hardly  in 
a  humour  to  brook  another  prolonged  absence.  So 
he  rarely  mentioned  the  name  of  Hanover  and  never 
that  of  Walmoden.  Most  people  about  the  court 
thought  that  the  King  had  forgotten  her  for  Lady 
Deloraine,  to  whom  he  showed  great  attention, 
paying  her  visits  in  her  apartments  for  a  long  time 
together,  as  he  had  done  to  Lady  Suffolk  in  the  old 
days.  He  also  insisted  on  her  sitting  next  him  at 
the  commerce  table,  and  often  walked  with  her 
tete-a-tete  in  the  gardens.  Lady  Deloraine,  who  had 
great  beauty  but  little  discretion,  was  inclined  to 
boast  of  her  triumphs,  for  she  said  to  Lord  Hervey  : 
"  Do  you  know  the  King  has  been  in  love  with  me 
these  two  years?"  Lord  Hervey,  who  was  afraid 
to  invite  dangerous  confidences,  merely  smiled  and 
said:  "Who  is  not  in  love  with  you?"  Walpole 
came  across  her  one  day,  standing  in  the  hall  at 
Richmond  with  a  baby  in  her  arms,  and  said  to  her : 
"  That  is  a  very  pretty  boy,  Lady  Deloraine  ;  whose 
is  it?"  She  replied:  "Mr.  Windham's  (her  hus- 
band's) upon  my  honour.  But,"  she  added  with  a 


significant  laugh,  "  I  will  not  promise  whose  the 
next  shall  be."  She  moreover  told  several  people 
that  the  King  had  been  importunate  a  long  time, 
but  that  she  had  held  out  from  motives  of  virtue, 
which  were  not  at  all  appreciated,  as  her  husband, 
she  was  sure,  did  not  care. 

Whether  there  was  anything  between  Lady 
Deloraine  and  the  King  or  not,  the  Queen  followed 
her  usual  policy  of  ignoring  the  intrigue.  She 
knew  what  her  husband  was,  and  made  allowances. 
Perhaps,  too,  she  was  glad  that  he  should  seek 
distraction  from  Madame  Walmoden,  though  she 
knew  that  he  had  not  forgotten  her.  Walpole  had 
told  her  of  an  incident  which  showed  how  the  King 
still  esteemed  his  Hanoverian  mistress  above  Lady 
Deloraine.  He  ordered  Walpole  one  day  to  buy  a 
hundred  lottery  tickets,  and  to  charge  the  amount, 
;£  1,000,  to  the  secret  service  fund  instead  of  his 
civil  list.  Walpole  did  as  he  was  bid  and  told 
Hervey  of  this  iniquitous  transaction,  which  he  said 
was  for  the  benefit  of  the  King's  favourite.  Hervey 
thought  he  meant  Lady  Deloraine  and  expressed 
his  surprise  at  the  largeness  of  the  sum,  saying  he 
"  did  not  think  his  Majesty  went  so  deep  there ". 
Walpole  replied :  "  No,  I  mean  the  Hanover 
woman.  You  are  right  to  imagine  he  does  not  go 
so  deep  to  his  lying  fool  here.  He  will  give  her  a 
couple  of  the  tickets  and  think  her  generously  used." 

The  relations  between  the  Prince  of  Wales  and 
his  parents  went  from  bad  to  worse  as  the  months 
wore  on,  but  they  were  not  even  yet  strained  to 


breaking  point.  Acting  on  the  advice  of  his  sup- 
porters the  Prince  still  occasionally  attended  levies 
and  drawing-rooms.  The  King  treated  him  as 
though  he  were  not  in  the  room  ;  the  Queen,  though 
she  recognised  his  presence,  did  not  speak  to  him 
more  than  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  in  private 
she  declared  that  she  was  afraid  to  do  so  lest  he 
should  distort  her  words.  The  Prince  still  resided 
in  his  father's  house,  making  his  headquarters  at 
St.  James's  Palace.  But  when  the  King  and  Queen 
moved  to  Hampton  Court  for  the  summer  he  had 
perforce  to  go  there  too,  but  much  against  his  will. 
Though  he  and  the  Princess  lived  under  the  same 
roof  as  the  King  and  Queen  they  saw  little  of  them, 
and  only  met  them  in  public. 

In  July  the  Prince  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Queen 
announcing  that  the  Princess  was  with  child.  The 
Queen  congratulated  him  and  the  Princess  on  the 
auspicious  event,  and  asked  the  latter  some  maternal 
questions  about  her  condition.  To  all  these  the 
Princess  made  the  same  answer —  "  I  do  not  know  ". 
The  Queen  had  doubts,  which  were  shared  by  her 
daughters,  as  to  whether  the  Princess  was  really 
pregnant.  Both  she  and  the  King  considered  the 
Prince  quite  capable  of  palming  off  a  spurious  child 
on  them,  and  their  prejudices  against  him  were  so 
strong  that  they  half  believed  he  was  plotting  to  do 
so.  They  had  no  wish  that  the  Princess  of  Wales 
should  bear  children ;  it  was  generally  thought  that 
she  would  not.  If  she  did  it  would  destroy  the 
remaining  chance  that  their  beloved  younger  son, 


William,  might  one  day  succeed  to  the  crown.  The 
Prince,  who  resented  these  suspicions,  wished  that 
his  wife  should  be  confined  at  St.  James's,  but  the 
King  determined  that  the  event  should  take  place  at 
Hampton  Court.  The  Queen  declared  that  "at 
her  labour  I  positively  will  be,  let  her  lie  in  where 
she  will,"  but  again  expressed  herself  sceptical  about 
the  Princess  being  confined  at  all,  as  she  could  see 
no  signs  of  it.  The  Prince,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
knew  and  resented  these  suspicions,  vowed  that  his 
mother  should  not  be  present  at  the  birth,  and  that 
the  child  should  be  born  at  St.  James's.  He  kept 
his  word. 

The  court  was  then  at  Hampton  Court  for  the 
summer,  and  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  were 
there  occupying  their  own  suite  of  apartments.  On 
Sunday,  July  3ist,  the  Princess  dined  in  public 
with  the  King  and  Queen,  but  on  retiring  to  her 
apartments  she  was  seized  with  pain,  and  symptoms 
of  premature  confinement  became  manifest.  Not- 
withstanding the  danger,  which  perhaps  the  Prince 
did  not  realise,  as  the  Princess's  confinement  was 
not  expected  for  two  months,  he  determined  that  she 
should  at  once  be  secretly  removed  to  St.  James's. 
He  ordered  his  coach  to  be  brought  round  quickly. 
It  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  Prince's  apartments  were 
in  another  wing  of  the  palace  to  those  of  the  King 
and  Queen,  so  they  were  able  to  make  their  exit 
without  being  seen.  The  poor  Princess  was  carried 
downstairs,  though  she  begged  her  husband  to  let 
her  remain  where  she  was,  and  Lady  Archibald 


Hamilton  added  her  entreaties,  but  to  no  effect. 
The  Prince  obstinately  insisted  on  his  wife  getting 
into  the  coach  with  Lady  Archibald  and  one  of 
her  women.  The  Prince  got  in  after  them,  and 
gave  the  order  to  drive  with  all  speed  to  St.  James's, 
and  once  outside  the  gates  of  Hampton  Court  they 
went  at  full  gallop  towards  London.  The  Princess 
moaned  in  agony,  but  the  Prince  kept  saying  : 
"  Courage,  courage,"  telling  her  by  way  of  consola- 
tion that  it  would  all  be  over  in  a  minute.  They 
arrived  at  St.  James's  Palace  about  ten  o'clock  : 
there  was  nothing  ready  for  them,  as  they  were 
not  expected.  The  Princess,  shrieking  with  pain, 
was  carried  upstairs  and  put  to  bed,  and,  there  being 
no  sheets  in  the  palace,  a  pair  of  table-cloths  had  to 
make  shift  instead.  Within  half-an-hour  she  was 
prematurely  delivered  of  a  girl  child.1 

Meanwhile  at  Hampton  Court,  the  King  and 
Queen,  all  unsuspecting,  passed  their  evening  as 
usual :  the  King  played  commerce  below  stairs  with 
Lady  Deloraine  and  the  maids  of  honour ;  the 
Queen  and  the  Princess  Amelia  played  quadrille 
above  ;  the  Princess  Caroline  and  Lord  Hervey  had 
their  nightly  game  of  cribbage.  The  party  broke 
up,  and  all  retired  at  eleven,  without  having  heard 
a  whisper  of  what  had  been  going  on  in  the  Prince 
of  Wales's  apartments.  The  King  and  Queen  had 
gone  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  when  about  half-past  one 
they  were  aroused  by  the  arrival  of  a  courier  from 

1  The  Princess  thus  born  was  afterwards  Duchess  of  Brunswick, 
and  died  in  London,  March,  1813. 


St.  James's  Palace  with  a  message  that  brooked  no 
delay.  The  Queen,  startled  at  being  aroused  at  so 
unusual  an  hour,  asked  whether  the  palace  was  on 
fire,  but  Mrs.  Tichburne,  her  dresser,  in  fear  and 
trembling  explained  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  had 
sent  to  let  their  Majesties  know  that  the  Princess 
was  in  labour.  The  Queen  jumped  up  immediately 
and  cried  out :  "  My  God  !  My  night-gown,  I'll  go 
to  her  this  moment."  "  Your  night-gown,  madam," 
said  the  worthy  Tichburne,  "  aye,  and  your  coaches 
too;  the  Princess  is  at  St.  James's."  "Are  you 
mad  ? "  exclaimed  the  Queen,  "  or  are  you  asleep, 
my  good  Tichburne  ?  you  dream."  Then  Mrs. 
Tichburne  told  the  whole  tale  of  the  Princess's  flight, 
so  far  as  she  understood  it.  The  King  raged  and 
swore,  and  began  to  abuse  the  Queen,  saying : 
"  You  see,  now,  with  all  your  wisdom,  how  they 
have  outwitted  you.  This  is  all  your  fault.  There 
will  be  a  false  child  put  upon  you,  and  how  will 
you  answer  for  it  to  all  your  children  ?  This  has 
been  fine  care  and  fine  management  for  your  son, 
William  ;  he  is  mightily  obliged  to  you  ;  and  as 
for  Anne,  I  hope  she  will  come  over  and  scold  you 
herself;  I  am  sure  you  deserve  anything  she  can 
say  to  you." 

The  Queen  made  no  answer,  but  dressed  quickly, 
ordered  her  coach,  and  set  out  for  London  at  once, 
accompanied  by  the  Princesses  Amelia  and  Caroline, 
and  attended  by  some  of  the  lords  in  waiting.  She 
arrived  at  St.  James's  Palace  about  four  o'clock, 
left  her  coach,  and  those  who  came  with  her,  at  the 


outer  gate,  walked  alone  across  the  courtyard  and 
made  her  way  upstairs  as  fast  as  she  could.  At  the 
top  of  the  stairs  she  met  the  Prince  in  his  night- 
gown. He  dutifully  kissed  her  hand  and  cheek, 
and  then  with  scarcely  concealed  malice  told  her 
that  she  was  too  late,  the  Princess  had  given  birth 
to  a  daughter.  The  Queen  expressed  neither  sur- 
prise nor  annoyance,  but  asked  why  the  news  of 
the  child's  birth  had  not  been  sent  to  her  before 
she  started  from  Hampton  Court.  The  Prince  said 
that  he  had  written  letters  to  the  King  and  Queen 
directly  he  could  ;  the  messenger  was  already  on 
the  road  and  she  would  doubtless  find  them  on  her 
return.  The  Queen  made  no  further  remark,  but 
asked  to  see  the  mother  and  child.  The  Prince 
then  conducted  her  into  the  Princess's  chamber. 
The  Queen  kissed  the  Princess  and  wished  her  joy, 
but  expressed  her  fear  that  she  had  suffered  greatly. 
The  Princess  dutifully  replied  :  "  Not  at  all ;  it  is 
nothing".  Lady  Archibald  Hamilton  brought  the 
child,  which  was  wrapped  up  in  an  old  red  mantle 
and  some  napkins,  no  proper  clothes  having  yet  been 
found  for  it,  nor  any  nurse.  The  Queen  kissed  the 
babe  and  said  :  "  The  good  God  bless  you,  poor 
little  creature ;  you  have  come  into  a  troublesome 
world  ". 

The  Prince  then  began  a  long  account  of  what 
had  happened.  The  Queen  listened  to  him  without 
interruption,  but  when  he  had  quite  finished,  she 
said  that  it  was  a  miracle  the  Princess  and  the  child 
had  not  been  killed.  She  added  that  he  and  his 

VOL.    II.  22 


wife  were  a  couple  of  young  fools  who  could  not 
have  been  aware  of  the  danger  they  ran,  and  then 
she  turned  to  Lady  Archibald  and  said  :  "  But  for 
you,  my  Lady  Archibald,  who  have  had  ten  children, 
that  with  your  experience,  and  at  your  age,  you 
should  suffer  these  people  to  act  with  such  a  mad- 
ness, I  am  astonished  ;  and  wonder  how  you  could, 
for  your  own  sake  as  well  as  theirs,  venture  to  be 
concerned  in  such  an  expedition  ".  To  this  Lady 
Archibald  made  no  reply,  except  to  turn  to  the 
Prince  and  say:  "You  see,  sir".  The  Queen  then 
embraced  the  Princess,  wished  her  good-bye,  and 
told  her  that  if  there  was  anything  she  wanted  she 
had  only  to  name  it  and  it  would  be  done.  The 
Princess,  who  had  evidently  been  coached  in  her 
part,  from  between  her  table-cloths  thanked  her 
Majesty,  but  said  she  wanted  nothing.  The  Prince 
waited  on  his  mother  down  the  stairs,  still  in  his 
night-gown,  and  would  have  escorted  her  to  her 
coach,  had  she  not  insisted  that  he  should  not 
accompany  her  out  of  doors  in  such  a  plight.  The 
Queen  walked  across  the  courts  by  herself  to  where 
the  coaches  were  waiting.  She  told  the  Princesses 
that  she  had  no  doubt  the  child  was  genuine,  but 
she  added  :  "If  instead  of  this  poor,  little,  ugly  she- 
mouse  there  had  been  a  brave,  large,  fat,  jolly  boy, 
I  should  not  have  been  cured  of  my  suspicions  ". 

As  soon  as  the  Queen  had  set  out  from  Hampton 
Court  the  King  sent  express  messengers  to  Walpole 
and  Lord  Harrington,  requesting  them  to  hasten  to 
St.  James's  to  be  present  at  the  birth  of  the  Prince's 


child.  They  went  thither  with  all  speed,  but  like 
the  Queen  arrived  too  late.  Walpole  returned  to 
Hampton  Court  in  the  course  of  the  morning,  and 
had  a  conference  with  the  King  and  Queen.  He 
agreed  that  the  insult  was  intolerable,  and  must  be 
punished.  Walpole  had  learnt  his  lesson,  and  was 
now  wholly  against  the  Prince.  So  far  from 
attempting  to  moderate  the  King's  ire  he  rather 
sought  to  inflame  it,  and  declared  that  if  the  King 
and  Queen  did  not  conquer  him  he  would  conquer 
them.  After  much  discussion  and  much  strong 
language,  the  King  sent  the  Prince  a  written  mes- 
sage, complaining  of  the  "deliberate  indignity" 
offered  to  him  and  the  Queen,  which  he  "  resented 
in  the  highest  degree".  The  King  was  for  taking 
more  drastic  measures  at  once,  but  Walpole  per- 
suaded him  to  defer  them  until  the  Princess  was  out 
of  danger,  and  then  strike.  The  King  would  gain 
by  waiting  a  little  he  said,  for  as  soon  as  it  was 
known  that  the  Prince  had  been  guilty  of  this 
grievous  act  of  folly  his  popularity  would  wane.  In 
this  he  was  right,  for  no  sooner  did  the  news  get 
abroad  than  the  public,  to  a  man,  condemned  the 
Prince's  conduct  in  risking  his  wife's  life  and  that  of 
his  unborn  child,  in  order  to  insult  his  father  and 
mother.  His  friends  who  had  supported  him 
through  thick  and  thin  in  his  endeavour  to  get  a 
separate  grant  from  Parliament  were  unable  to  find 
an  excuse  for  this  rash  and  inconsiderate  step,  though 
they  urged  in  palliation  the  Prince's  natural  pique 
at  the  surveillance  to  which  he  had  been  sub- 


jected,  and  his  ignorance  of  the  danger  the  Princess 
had  run. 

The  Prince,  who  soon  became  aware  that  he  had 
made  a  false  step,  called  a  council  of  his  chief  sup- 
porters, including  Carteret,  Chesterfield  and  Pulteney, 
who  frankly  told  him  that  he  had  put  himself  in  the 
wrong,  and  the  best  thing  he  could  do  would  be  to 
patch  up  a  reconciliation  with  the  King  and  Queen. 
In  view  of  this  the  Prince,  a  few  days  later,  thought 
he  would  go  to  Hampton  Court  to  pay  his  respects 
to  the  King  and  Queen,  but  the  King,  having  got 
ear  that  he  was  coming,  sent  him  a  message  saying 
he  would  not  see  him.  Thereupon  ensued  a  lengthy 
correspondence,  in  which  the  Prince  would  not  own 
himself  in  the  wrong.  He  expressed  himself  deeply 
grieved  at  having  aroused  the  King's  anger,  but  in- 
sinuated that  the  Queen  was  really  responsible  for 
the  strained  relations  between  himself  and  his  father. 
He  thus  struck  a  note  which  was  taken  up  by  the 
Prince's  court,  and  afterwards  by  the  great  body  of 
his  supporters.  Afraid  to  strike  at  the  King  directly, 
they  threw  all  the  blame  upon  the  Queen,  who  they 
declared  had  first  artfully  inflamed  the  King's  anger 
against  his  son,  and  now  tried  to  keep  him  inflexible. 
It  was  a  cowardly  thing  to  do,  as  well  as  unjust,  for 
the  Queen  had  always  been  on  the  side  of  peace  ; 
but  the  Prince  hated  his  mother  because  the  King 
had  appointed  her  Regent  instead  of  him,  and  the 
Opposition  hated  the  Queen  because  she  had  shown 
herself,  through  storm  and  shine,  the  firm  supporter 
of  Walpole.  In  pursuance  of  this  policy,  when  the 


Queen,  nine  days  after  her  daughter-in-law's  con- 
finement, paid  her  another  visit  at  St.  James's,  the 
Prince  treated  his  mother  with  marked  discourtesy  ; 
he  avoided  meeting  her  at  the  main  entrance,  and 
only  received  her  at  the  door  of  the  Princess's  bed- 
chamber ;  he  refused  to  speak  a  word  to  her  during 
the  whole  visit,  though  the  Queen  was  in  the  room 
with  him  and  her  daughter-in-law  more  than  an 
hour.  He  could  not  help  escorting  her  to  her  coach 
when  she  left,  but  did  it  all  in  dumb  show  ;  yet  when 
they  reached  the  coach  door,  and  he  saw  that  a  con- 
siderable crowd  had  assembled,  he  knelt  down  in 
the  muddy  street  and  kissed  her  hand  with  every 
demonstration  of  respect.  At  this  hyprocrisy,  as 
Horace  Walpole  says,  "  her  indignation  must  have 
shrunk,  into  contempt."1  The  Queen  was  deeply 
wounded  by  her  son's  treatment,  and  after  that  she 
paid  no  more  visits  to  St.  James's. 

These  acts  irritated  the  King  beyond  endurance, 
and  even  the  Queen  was  stung  out  of  her  usual  calm 
by  the  attacks  made  upon  her.  But  anger  and 
strong  language  availed  nothing.  The  Prince  was 
heir  to  the  throne,  and  an  heir  to  a  throne  is  never 
without  friends.  In  Frederick's  case  his  friends 
were  all  the  Patriots  ;  even  Carteret,  finding  his  over- 
tures to  the  Queen  led  to  nothing,  had  gone  back 
to  him.  The  triumph  of  the  Prince  would  mean  the 

1  Walpole's  Reminiscences,  vol.  iv.  He  repeats  the  same  story  in 
his  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  Horace  Walpole  confuses  the  Queen's  second 
visit  with  her  first,  otherwise  his  account  tallies  with  that  of  Lord 
Hervey — Memoirs,  vol.  ii. 


triumph  of  the  Opposition  too,  the  defeat  of  the 
King  and  Queen,  the  defeat  of  the  Government. 
Walpole  knew  this,  and  realised  that  if  any  recon- 
ciliation were  brought  about  he  would  probably  have 
to  go.  It  was  obviously  to  the  advantage  of  the 
Royal  Family  that  these  quarrels  should  end,  and 
Lord  Hardwicke,  the  Lord  Chancellor,  earnestly 
strove  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation.  But  Walpole 
advised  the  King  against  it,  an  easy  task,  for  the 
King's  inclination  was  all  for  revenge.  Another 
message,  an  ultimatum,  was  therefore  composed  and 
sent  by  the  King,  denouncing  the  Prince's  conduct  in 
the  strongest  terms,  and  ending,  "  It  is  my  pleasure 
that  you  leave  St.  James's  with  all  your  family  ".1 
This  was  equivalent  to  a  total  separation. 

The  Prince  received  the  King's  message  without 
comment,  and,  as  the  orders  were  peremptory,  two 
days  later  he  and  the  Princess  removed  from  St. 
James's  Palace  to  Kew.  All  communications  between 
the  two  courts  were  now  broken  off,  and  shortly  after- 
wards the  Prince  took  up  his  residence  at  Norfolk 
House,  St.  James's  Square,  which  immediately  be- 
came a  rival  court  and  the  centre  of  the  Opposition, 
much  as  Leicester  House  had  been  in  the  reign  of 
George  the  First.2  The  court  of  Norfolk  House, 
though  small  in  numbers,  was  not  without  brilliancy. 
The  Prince  had  wit  and  pleasing  manners  and  was 

1  Message  of  the  King  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  loth  September, 


2  The  parallel  became  closer  when  Frederick  Prince  of  Wales 
removed  to  Leicester  House. 


ably  seconded  by  his  young  and  beautiful  consort. 
His  love  of  letters  attracted  many  of  the  ablest  writers, 
and  his  political  views  drew  around  him  the  rising 
men  among  the  Tories.  The  Prince  of  Wales's 
court  became  a  focus  of  all  the  talents  and  a 
rallying  place  of  the  younger  Tories,  and  as  time 
went  on,  it  influenced  considerably  the  course  of 
English  politics.  A  generation  was  growing  up  in 
the  Tory  party  which  knew  not  the  Stuarts,  and 
saw  a  way  of  overthrowing  the  Whig  ascendency, 
not  by  the  forcible  restoration  of  James,  but  in 
the  peaceable  accession  of  Frederick.  They  were 
doomed  to  wander  many  years  in  the  wilderness  of 
opposition  before  their  dreams  came  true ;  and  the 
Whig  domination  was  at  last  beaten  down,  not  by 
Frederick,  but  by  his  son.  But  at  this  time  Frederick's 
accession  to  the  throne  seemed  comparatively  near 
at  hand.  It  was  in  view  of  his  future  reign,  and  as  a 
satire  on  his  father's,  that  Bolingbroke  composed  his 
magnificent  essay,  The  Ideal  of  a  Patriot  King, 
a  sublime  conception  of  government,  but  impossible 
to  be  acted  upon,  because  it  presupposed  the  exist- 
ence of  a  monarch  of  almost  superhuman  wisdom 
and  virtues.  Such  an  ideal  could  not  be  realised 
in  Frederick,  nor  was  it  realised  in  his  son,  George 
the  Third. 




THE  Queen's  health  had  been  breaking  for  some 
time  past,  and  nothing  but  her  strength  of  will  and 
determination  not  to  yield  kept  her  up.  She  had 
never  really  enjoyed  good  health  since  she  became 
Queen.  The  last  ten  years  had  been  a  continual 
struggle  against  physical  weakness  ;  in  the  news- 
sheets  of  the  day  mention  is  frequently  made  of  the 
Queen's  indisposition,  and  nearly  always  from  a 
different  cause.  The  list  of  her  ailments  and  the 
barbarous  and  violent  remedies  resorted  to  makes 
one  wonder  how  she  survived  so  long — gout,  ague, 
rash,  pleurisy,  chills,  colic — everything,  in  short,  but 
her  secret,  and  most  dangerous,  malady  was  recorded. 
But  the  Queen  seldom  retired  for  more  than  a  day 
or  two,  she  would  never  admit  that  she  was  really  ill, 
and  was  extremely  angry  if  any  one  said  that  she  was 
so.  The  King  disliked  to  have  sick  people  about  him, 
and  resented  the  Queen's  ailments  as  though  they 
were  invented  for  his  special  annoyance.  Caroline 
was  aware  of  this  peculiarity  on  the  part  of  her 
spouse,  and  would  endure  agonies  rather  than  let 


him  suspect  that  anything  was  wrong  with  her. 
She  was  a  great  sufferer  from  gout,  which  sometimes 
crippled  her  so  much  that  she  could  not  move  without 
pain,  but  so  absolute  was  her  devotion  to  the  King, 
that  she  would  plunge  her  swollen  legs  into  ice-cold 
water,  in  order  that  she  might  not  fail  to  accompany 
him  on  his  daily  walks.  These  desperate  remedies 
no  doubt  did  her  infinite  harm.  But  she  had  another 
malady  too,  which  "  false  delicacy,"  as  some  de- 
scribed it,  though  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say 
"  wifely  devotion,"  made  her  conceal.  At  the  birth 
of  her  youngest  child,  Princess  Louisa,  in  1724, 
Caroline  suffered  a  slight  internal  rupture.  Her 
husband  noticed  it  at  the  time,  but  she  said  it  was 
nothing,  and  would  pass.  Later  he  taxed  her  with 
it  again,  and  advised  her  to  consult  a  doctor,  but 
she  again  denied  it,  this  time  with  so  much  vexa- 
tion, declaring  that  he  sought  a  pretext  for  neglecting 
her,  that  the  King  promised  never  to  mention  it 
again.  For  a  time  the  malady  seemed  to  grow 
better,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  remain  dormant,  but  of  late 
it  had  been  troubling  her  again,  and  neglect  and 
concealment  made  it  go  from  bad  to  worse. 

The  Queen  took  infinite  pains  to  hide  the  nature 
of  her  illness,  frequently  consulting  doctors,  and  yet 
leaving  them  in  ignorance  of  her  real  malady.  For 
years,  amid  the  splendours  of  her  court,  in  the 
plenitude  of  her  power,  Caroline  had  carried  with  her 
this  dread  secret,  and  maintained  a  smiling  face  to  the 
world.  From  time  to  time  she  must  have  suffered 
agonies,  but  she  bore  them  with  Spartan  heroism. 


It  was  only  during  the  King's  absences  at  Hanover 
that  she  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  a  collapse,  and  then 
she  ascribed  her  weakness  to  the  gout,  or  any  cause 
but  the  real  one.  She  held  drawing-rooms  as  usual, 
but  more  than  once  she  had  to  be  wheeled  into  the 
presence-chamber  in  a  chair,  physically  unable  to 
stand.  Of  one  of  these  breakdowns  Peter  Went- 
worth  writes  : — 

"  The  Queen  has  been  so  ill.  I  went  every  day 
to  the  backstairs  and  had  the  general  answer  that 
she  was  better,  but  I  knew  when  they  told  me  true 
and  when  not,  and  was  often  in  great  pain  for  my 
good  Queen,  but  it  is  not  the  fashion  to  show  any 
at  Court.  The  first  day  that  she  came  out  into  her 
drawing-room  she  told  a  lady,  whom  I  stood  behind, 
that  she  had  really  been  very  bad  and  dangerously 
ill,  but  it  was  her  own  fault,  for  she  had  a  fever  a 
fortnight  before  she  came  from  Kensington,  but  she 
kept  it  a  secret,  for  she  resolved  to  appear  on  the 
King's  birthday.  She  owned  she  did  wrong,  and 
said  she  would  do  so  no  more,  upon  which  I  made 
her  a  bow,  as  much  as  to  say,  I  hoped  she  would  do 
as  she  then  said.  I  believe  she  understood  me  for 
she  smiled  upon  me."  l 

In  some  way  the  Queen  connected  the  decline  of 
her  influence  over  the  King,  and  his  passion  for  the 
Walmoden,  with  the  failing  of  her  physical  health, 
and  she  struggled  against  it  to  the  death.  It  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  she  would  have  died  rather 

JThe  Hon.  Peter  Wentworth  to  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  London, 
December  loth,  1734. 


than  let  her  malady  become  known — in  fact  her  con- 
cealment of  it  led  to  her  death.  This  secret  anxiety 
gnawing  always  at  her  heart,  combined  with  the 
worries  she  had  to  endure  from  without  and  within, 
told  upon  her  strength.  For  the  last  two  or  three 
years  she  had  been  on  the  rack  daily,  a  martyr  to 
physical  and  mental  anguish.  The  infidelity  of  the 
King,  the  unfilial  conduct  of  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
the  hard  work  inseparable  from  her  position,  and  the 
effort  at  all  costs  to  keep  a  brave  front  to  the  world, 
told  upon  her  health,  until  at  last  she  could  bear 
the  strain  no  longer.  It  was  in  vain  that  she  sought 
relaxation  in  her  best-loved  pursuits ;  the  haunting 
fear  never  left  her  day  or  night. 

Soon  after  the  Prince  of  Wales  had  been 
turned  out  of  St.  James's  Palace  the  King  and 
Queen  removed  there  from  Hampton  Court,  and 
remained  over  the  King's  birthday  (October  3Oth). 
The  Queen  busied  herself  much  this  autumn  in 
fitting  up  a  new  library  which  she  had  built  in  the 
stable  yard  of  St.  James's,  on  the  site  now  occupied 
by  Stafford  House.  It  was  a  large  handsome  build- 
ing constructed  on  the  most  approved  principles. 
The  Queen  was  now  furnishing  it  with  cases  and 
books ;  she  had  ordered  busts  of  philosophers  and 
learned  men  to  be  placed  in  the  corridor,  and  had 
requested  the  English  ambassadors  abroad  to  collect 
for  her  the  best  Spanish,  French  and  Italian  books 
to  make  her  collection  as  complete  as  possible. 
When  all  was  finished  she  hoped  to  hold  there 
the  intellectual  tournaments  in  which  she  delighted, 


and  make  the  library  serve  the  double  purpose  of  a 
lecture  room.  She  used  to  go  there  nearly  every 
day  to  personally  superintend  the  work,  and  it  was 
in  this  library  on  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  No- 
vember 9th,  that  she  finally  broke  down. 

The  Queen  was  giving  some  directions  to  the 
workmen  when  suddenly  she  was  seized  with  violent 
internal  pains.  She  made  her  way  back  to  St.  James's 
Palace  as  quickly  as  she  could,  and  went  to  bed. 
At  two  o'clock  there  was  to  be  a  drawing-room  ;  the 
King  proposed  that  it  should  be  postponed,  but 
the  Queen,  who  did  not  wish  it  to  be  known  that 
she  was  ill,  declared  that  she  felt  much  better,  got 
up,  dressed,  and  went  to  the  drawing-room.  She 
smiled  and  bowed  as  usual,  and  even  chatted  to 
some  of  the  company,  though  she  was  suffering 
extremely,  and  could  scarcely  stand.  The  King 
noticed  nothing  amiss,  and  went  on  talking  for  a 
long  time  about  some  new  farce  that  was  the 
fashion  of  the  hour.  At  last  he  dismissed  the  court, 
reminding  the  Queen,  who  was  by  this  time  in 
agony,  that  she  had  not  spoken  to  the  premier 
duchess,  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk.  The  Queen,  as 
she  was  going  out,  went  to  the  duchess,  and  apolo- 
gised for  the  omission  with  her  usual  graciousness. 
On  returning  to  her  room  she  again  went  to  bed. 

The  King  thought  it  was  only  a  temporary 
indisposition,  in  which  belief  she  humoured  him, 
and  he  went  off  in  the  evening  to  play  cards  with 
Lady  Deloraine,  after  having  sent  for  the  German 
court  physician  to  look  after  the  Queen.  Every 



hour  the  Queen  became  worse,  but  she  was  still 
bent  on  concealing  the  cause  of  her  illness,  and 
declared  that  she  had  the  colic.  She  asked  Lord 
Hervey,  who  was  in  attendance,  what  she  should 
do  to  ease  her  pain.  Lord  Hervey,  who  was  a 
chronic  invalid,  and  made  himself  a  worse  one  by 
taking  quack  nostrums,  recommended  her  a  concoc- 
tion called  "  snake  root ".  But  the  German  physi- 
cian would  not  let  her  take  it,  and,  as  the  Queen  was 
now  in  a  high  fever,  he  called  in  another  doctor. 
In  ignorance  of  her  malady,  the  doctors  dosed 
their  unfortunate  patient  with  a  number  of  horrible 
decoctions,  such  as  "  Daffy's  Elixir,"  "  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh's  Cordial,"  usquebaugh,  and  so  forth, 
and  then,  as  the  only  effect  of  these  remedies  was 
to  make  her  violently  sick,  they  sent  for  Ranby, 
the  surgeon,  who  bled  her  into  the  bargain.  The 
Princess  Caroline,  who  had  sat  with  her  mother 
all  day,  now  declared  herself  seized  with  rheumatic 
pains,  and  Lord  Hervey,  who  was  in  his  element, 
dosed  her  with  another  nostrum  called  "  Ward's 
Pill,"  which,  it  is  not  surprising  to  hear,  made  her 
worse.  The  King  came  back  at  his  usual  hour, 
and  was  much  upset  at  finding  the  Queen  so  ill. 
By  way  of  showing  his  anxiety  he  lay  on  her  bed 
all  night,  outside  the  coverlet,  with  the  result  that  he 
spoilt  his  night's  rest  and  hers  too. 

The  Queen  was  again  bled  in  the  morning 
(Thursday),  and  the  fever  having  abated  a  little  it 
was  thought  that  she  was  better.  But  she  knew  that 
she  was  not,  for  she  said  to  the  Princess  Caroline,  who 


was  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  pill :  "  Poor  Caro- 
line, you  are  very  ill  too ;  we  shall  soon  meet  again 
in  another  place  ".  At  her  request  the  King  held  a 
drawing-room  as  usual,  and  the  Princess  Amelia  took 
her  mother's  place  at  court.  So  the  day  wore  on. 
Towards  the  evening  the  Queen  got  worse,  and  in  her 
agony  cried  aloud  to  the  Princess  Caroline  :  "  I  have 
an  ill  which  nobody  knows  of".  But,  as  she  gave  no 
particulars,  this  was  regarded  merely  as  a  vague 
statement.  Two  more  physicians  were  called  in,  and 
further  added  to  the  illustrious  patient's  discomfort 
by  ordering  blisters  and  aperients,  both  without 
effect.  The  King  was  now  greatly  concerned,  and 
sat  up  all  night  with  his  wife. 

The  next  morning  (Friday)  it  was  impossible  to 
conceal  any  longer  the  fact  that  the  Queen  was 
seriously  ill.  The  news  reached  the  ears  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  who  was  then  at  Kew,  and  he 
immediately  hurried  up  to  London  to  inquire  after 
the  Queen.  The  King  had  an  idea  that  something 
of  the  kind  would  happen,  and  gave  strict  orders 
that  if  the  Prince  came  he  was  not  to  be  admitted. 
About  an  hour  after  the  King  had  thus  expressed 
himself,  the  Prince  sent  Lord  North  to  St.  James's 
with  a  message  saying  that  he  was  much  grieved  to 
hear  of  the  Queen's  illness,  and  asking  to  be 
allowed  to  come  and  see  her.  But  the  King  not  only 
refused  to  let  him  come,  but  returned  an  answer 
requesting  him  to  send  no  more  messages  to  St. 
James's.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  like  one  of  the  scoun- 
drel's tricks,  it  is  just  of  a  piece  of  his  kneeling  down 


in  the  dirt  before  the  mob  to  kiss  her  hand  at  the 
coach  door,  when  she  came  from  Hampton  Court  to 
see  the  Princess,  though  he  had  not  spoken  one 
word  to  her  during  the  whole  visit.  I  always  hated 
the  rascal,  but  now  I  hate  him  worse  than  ever.  He 
wants  to  come  and  insult  his  poor  dying  mother,  but 
she  shall  not  see  him."  Later  in  the  day,  the  Queen, 
who  had  no  knowledge  of  what  had  passed,  said  to 
the  King  that  she  wondered  the  Prince  had  not 
asked  to  see  her  yet,  as  she  felt  sure  that  he  would 
do  so,  because  it  would  look  well  before  the  world. 
The  King  then  told  her  of  what  had  passed  and  how 
he  had  forbidden  the  Prince  to  come,  or  send  any 
more  messages,  though,  he  added,  if  the  Queen  really 
wished  to  see  her  son  she  could  do  so.  But  the 
Queen  emphatically  declared  that  she  had  no  such 
wish,  and  the  incident  ended.  The  Prince  continued 
to  send  messengers  to  inquire  throughout  his  mother's 

The  next  day  (Saturday)  the  Queen  grew  worse 
every  hour,  yet  she  still,  with  a  stubbornness  which 
it  is  impossible  to  understand,  concealed  the  true 
nature  of  her  malady.  Towards  evening  the  King, 
who  was  greatly  worried,  whispered  to  her  that  he 
believed  her  illness  came  from  rupture,  but  she 
denied  it  with  great  warmth  and  peevishness.  How- 
ever, the  King  sent  for  the  surgeon,  Ranby,  and 
confided  his  fears  to  him.  Ranby  at  once  examined 
the  Queen,  and  even  then  she  carried  her  desire 
for  concealment  so  far  as  to  declare  that  she  felt  the 
pain  in  a  different  part  of  her  body  to  that  where  it 


really  was.  But  the  surgeon  was  no  longer  to  be  de- 
ceived, and  having  discovered  the  rupture,  he  took  the 
King  aside  and  told  him  of  it,  adding  that  the  Queen 
was  in  the  utmost  danger.  The  Queen  started  up  in 
bed  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  but  when  the 
surgeon  told  her  bluntly  that  it  was  no  longer  possible 
to  conceal  the  truth,  she  turned  her  face  to  the  wall 
and  wept  silently — these  were  the  only  tears  she 
shed  throughout  her  illness.  As  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  two  more  surgeons  were  called 
in,  and  the  same  evening  an  operation  was  per- 
formed. It  did  not  give  relief,  nor  did  the  doctors 
hold  out  much  hope,  concealment  and  neglect  had 
made  the  ill  past  remedy. 

The  Queen  passed  a  troubled  night,  and  early 
the  next  morning  (Sunday)  she  complained  that 
her  wound  gave  her  great  pain.  The  surgeons 
were  summoned,  and  discovered  that  it  had  already 
begun  to  mortify.  The  dreaded  news  was  im- 
mediately conveyed  to  the  King,  and  it  was  feared 
the  Queen  could  not  live  many  hours.  The  King 
came  at  once,  followed  by  the  Duke  of  Cumberland 
and  the  Princesses  Amelia,  Caroline,  Mary  and 
Louisa.  The  Queen  took  leave  of  her  weeping 
husband  and  children,  and  asked  them  not  to  leave 
her  until  she  died.  To  the  Princess  Caroline  she 
commended  the  care  of  her  younger  children,  and 
she  bade  her  son  William  be  a  support  to  his 
father,  and  try  to  make  up  for  the  sorrow  and 
vexation  caused  by  his  elder  brother.  Of  the  King 
she  took  a  most  affectionate  farewell,  telling  him  that 


he  knew  all  her  thoughts,  and  thanking  him  for  his 
love  and  trust  of  her.  She  commended  to  his  care 
all  those  who  were  dependent  on  her,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest.  She  then  drew  from  her 
finger  the  ruby  ring  he  had  given  her  at  the  Coro- 
nation, and  put  it  upon  his,  saying :  "  This  is  the 
last  thing  I  have  to  give  you :  naked  I  came  to  you, 
naked  I  go  from  you.  I  had  everything  I  ever 
possessed  from  you,  and  to  you  everything  I  have 
I  return."  She  added  one  word  of  advice,  which 
she  said  she  had  often  given  to  him  when  she  was  in 
health — that  after  her  death  he  should  marry  again. 
At  this  the  King  burst  into  sobs  and  tears,  and 
vowed  he  would  not,  saying  :  "  Non !  Non !  j'aurai 
des  maitresses  ".*  The  Queen  replied  wearily :  "  Mon 
Dieu !  cela  n'empeche  pas  ".2  It  was  the  only  hint  of 
reproach  that  ever  crossed  her  lips,  if  we  except  that 
other  bitter  cry  wrung  from  her  in  the  extremity  of 
her  anguish  years  before :  "  I  have  never  lived  a 
day  without  suffering  ".  Perhaps  the  King  felt  some 
pangs  of  remorse,  for  he  wept  over  her  bitterly ; 
kissed  her  again  and  again,  and  uttered  many  en- 
dearing words.  He  had  reason  to  weep,  for  he  was 
losing  the  only  being  in  the  world  who  loved  him, 
and  loved  him  with  a  devotion  that  was  as  absolute 
as  it  was  unaccountable. 

1  George  the  Second  kept  his  word.     He  never  married  again, 
though  he  survived  the  Queen  thirty-three  years.     But  within  a  year 
of  Caroline's  death  he   brought    Madame   de   Walmoden    over  to 
England,   and  later  created  her  Countess  of  Yarmouth. 

2  Vide  Hervey's  Memoirs.    Also  letter  of  Colonel  William  Douglas 
to  Lord  Carlisle,  izth  November,  1737  (Carlisle  MSS.). 

VOL.   II.  23 


After  this  trying  scene  the  Queen  fell  into  a  doze 
and  it  was  thought  that  she  would  pass  away  in  her 
sleep,  but,  to  every  one's  surprise,  she  woke  up 
feeling  better.  She  now  declared  her  belief  that 
she  would  last  until  Wednesday,  saying  that  all  the 
great  events  of  her  life  had  happened  on  that  day  ; 
she  had  been  born  on  a  Wednesday,  married  on  a 
Wednesday,  had  her  first  child  on  a  Wednesday, 
heard  the  news  of  the  late  King's  death  on  a  Wed- 
nesday, and  had  been  crowned  on  a  Wednesday, 
and  therefore  she  would  die  on  a  Wednesday.  This 
was  the  only  little  touch  of  superstition  in  her  char- 
acter. Later  in  the  day  the  surgeons  again  examined 
the  wound,  and,  finding  that  the  mortification  had 
not  spread,  declared  that  perhaps  after  all  she  would 
recover.1  This  revived  hope  in  all  breasts  but  that  of 
the  Queen,  who  knew  it  to  be  only  a  reprieve.  "  My 
heart  will  not  break  yet,"  she  said. 

Her  reprieve  gave  her  time  to  see  her  trusted 
friend  and  minister,  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  who  ar- 
rived in  haste  on  Monday  morning  from  Houghton, 
whither  he  had  gone  ten  days  previously  to  bury  his 
wife.  In  consequence  of  his  mourning  he  had  not 
been  sent  for  officially,  but  when  he  heard  the  news 
of  the  Queen's  danger  he  came  as  fast  as  post  horses 
could  bring  him.  The  Queen  had  asked  for  him 
once  or  twice,  and  when  the  King  heard  that  Wal- 
pole had  arrived,  and  was  in  the  ante-chamber,  he  at 
once  gave  him  audience.  Walpole  was  in  great 

1  Letter  of  Lady  A.  Irwin  to  Earl  of  Carlisle,  ryth  November, 
1737  (Carlisle  MSS.). 


disorder  and  distress,  for  he  had  been  travelling  hard 
and  fast.  Despite  his  great  bulk,  he  knelt  down 
awkwardly  and  kissed  the  King's  hand,  and  with 
tears,  asked:  "How  is  the  Queen?"  The  King 
said:  "Come  and  see  yourself,  my  good  Sir  Rob- 
ert," and  carried  him  off  to  the  Queen's  bedside. 
The  interview  was  very  short,  but  the  Queen's  words 
were  to  the  point.  "  My  good  Sir  Robert,  you  see 
me  in  a  very  indifferent  situation.  I  have  nothing 
to  say  to  you  but  to  recommend  the  King,  my 
children,  and  the  kingdom  to  your  care."  * 

The  Queen  lingered  throughout  Monday  and 
Tuesday,  and  even  the  dreaded  Wednesday,  in  much 
the  same  condition.  On  Thursday  a  change  took 
place  for  the  worse  and  she  suffered  much  pain,  but 
she  bore  it  all  without  a  murmur  and  had  a  smile 
and  a  cheery  word  for  many.  She  even  joked  at 
Ranby,  the  surgeon,  when  he  was  dressing  her 
wound,  saying :  "  Before  you  begin,  let  me  have  a 
full  view  of  your  comical  face  "  ;  and  whilst  he  was 
cutting  her  she  said  :  "  What  would  you  give  now 
to  be  cutting  up  your  wife  ?  " 2  The  Queen  under- 
went many  of  these  cuttings,  but  she  bore  all  with 
great  fortitude,  and  if  sometimes  a  groan  escaped 
her  she  would  beg  the  surgeons  not  to  heed  and 

1  Hervey's  Memoirs.     According  to  another  account,  she  said : 
"  I   hope  you  will  never  desert  the  King,  but  continue  to  serve  him 
with  your  usual  fidelity,"  and  pointing  to  her  husband,  she  added : 
"  I  recommend  his  Majesty  to  you  ".     Mahon's  History,  vol.  ii.     Vide 
also  Horace  Walpole's  Reminiscences. 

2  Letter  of  Hon.  Peter  Wentworth  to  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  ist 
December,  1737.     Ranby  was  then  seeking  a  divorce. 


even  apologised  to  them  for  some  peevish  expres- 
sions. Her  patience  and  courage  were  marvellous, 
and  her  mind  remained  calm  and  collected. 

All  this  time  the  chaplain's  services  had  not 
been  required.  Several  of  the  bishops  remarked 
on  it,  and  many  about  the  court  whispered  that  it 
was  not  right  that  the  Queen  should  remain  without 
the  consolations  of  religion.  At  last  representations 
were  made  to  Walpole,  who  irreligiously  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  But  he  asked  the  Princess  Amelia 
to  acquaint  the  King  and  Queen  with  what  was 
being  said,  and  suggested  that  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  (Dr.  Potter)  should  be  sent  for.  The 
Princess  Amelia,  who  knew  her  mother's  views  on 
religious  matters,  at  first  demurred  to  taking  the 
message,  but  afterwards  went  to  the  King,  who  went 
to  the  Queen,  who  immediately  consented.  The 
Archbishop  came,  and  continued  afterwards  to  pray 
by  her  bedside,  morning  and  evening.  But  the 
prayers  of  the  Archbishop  were  far  from  satisfying 
the  scruples  of  the  orthodox,  who  further  required 
that  her  Majesty  should  receive  the  Holy  Com- 

How  far  the  Archbishop  spoke  to  the  Queen  on 
this  solemn  subject  it  is  impossible  to  say.  The 
matter  was  one  between  the  royal  sufferer  and  her 
God.  Caroline  was,  in  the  wide  sense  of  the  word, 
a  religious  woman,  one  whose  religion  was  not  on 
her  lips  but  in  her  life  ;  she  had  a  firm  faith  in  God 
and  trust  in  His  mercy,  but  she  was  not,  and  never 
had  been,  an  orthodox  Christian.  In  health,  because 


she  conceived  it  to  be  her  duty  as  Queen-Consort, 
she  had  scrupulously  conformed  to  the  rites  of  the 
Church  of  England,  but  now,  in  the  presence  of  death, 
she  felt  it  necessary  to  be  sincere  in  her  convictions 
and  dispense  with  them.  The  Archbishop,  who 
was  a  godly  and  tolerant  prelate,  and  who  knew  the 
Queen's  views,  probably  forbore  to  press  her  on  the 
matter,  and  we  may  take  it  for  granted  that  the 
Queen  did  not  receive  the  last  sacrament.  It  was 
rumoured  about  the  court  that  the  Archbishop  had 
celebrated  the  Communion  of  the  Sick  in  the  royal 
chamber,  but  at  the  last  moment  the  Queen  refused 
to  receive.  When  the  Archbishop  came  out  of  the 
room  he  was  surrounded  by  courtiers  and  ladies  in 
waiting  in  the  ante-chambers,  who  eagerly  asked 
him,  "  My  Lord,  has  the  Queen  received  ?  "  The 
Archbishop  eluded  the  question,  and  rebuked  them 
by  saying  "  The  Queen  is  in  a  very  heavenly  dis- 
position ".  Some,  more  officious  than  the  rest,  told 
him  that  it  was  his  duty  to  reconcile  the  Queen  to 
the  Prince  of  Wales.  The  Archbishop  replied  that, 
whenever  the  Queen  had  spoken  to  him  about  the  un- 
happy divisions  in  the  Royal  Family,  she  had  spoken 
with  such  good  sense  that  it  would  be  impertinent 
for  him  to  offer  her  advice  on  the  subject.  By  some 
authorities  it  is  stated  that  the  Queen,  at  the  last, 
forgave  the  Prince,  and  one  goes  so  far  as  to  declare 
that  "  She  sent  her  blessing  and  forgiveness  to  her 
son,  and  told  Sir  Robert  [Walpole]  that  she  would 
have  sent  for  him  with  pleasure,  but  prudence  for- 
bade the  interview  as  it  might  irritate  and  embarrass 


the  King".1  On  the  other  hand  Hervey  is  silent  on 
this  point,  though  he  makes  the  Queen  several  times 
during  her  illness  express  resentment  against  her 
son,  which  was  perhaps  natural,  as  his  insults  were 
very  recent.  Her  enemies  afterwards  declared  that 
she  refused  the  Prince  her  forgiveness,  though  he 
sent  again  and  again  to  humbly  beseech  her  bless- 
ing. There  is  a  conflict  of  testimony  here,  and  the 
Queen  may  well  have  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  for 
all  her  life  she  had  laboured  in  the  cause  of  peace, 
and  striven  to  prevent  discord  in  the  Royal  Family. 
The  Queen  still  lingered  on,  her  brain  and  facul- 
ties clear  till  the  last.  But  the  King's  mind  was 
giving  way  under  the  strain.  He  was  conscious  of 
this  to  some  extent,  for  he  told  his  pages  that  if  he 
were  unreasonable  in  chiding  and  swearing  at  them 
they  were  not  to  mind  it.  Lord  Hervey,  in  his 
grim  and  ghastly  account  of  the  Queen's  deathbed, 
mocks  at  the  lamentations  of  the  King,  and  jeers 
at  his  behaviour.  Yet  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  that  his  grief  was  absolutely  sincere,  and 
in  the  presence  of  so  great  a  sorrow  these  gibes 
should  surely  have  been  stilled.  It  was  all  very 
human  and  very  pitiful.  The  King  was  not  one 
of  those  who  could  suffer  and  be  still,  his  grief  was 
noisy  and  garrulous,  and  he  talked  incessantly 
during  those  trying  days  to  all  whom  he  met  of 
the  Queen's  many  virtues  and  the  great  and  irrep- 
arable loss  her  death  would  be  to  him  and  the 

1  Coxe's  Life.of  Walpole.     Horace  Walpole  also  makes  a  state- 
ment to  the  same  effect,  though  not  so  definite. 


nation.  He  said  the  same  to  his  wife  over  and  over 
again,  and  they  babbled  their  love  together  with 
tears  and  broken  words.  She  knew  now  that  she 
was  first  with  him,  had  always  been  first  with 
him,  and  their  love  was  as  fresh  and  fragrant 
as  when  he  wooed  her  in  the  rose-gardens  of  Ans- 
bach  long  ago.  Yet,  evidently  overwrought  by  long 
watching  and  emotion,  the  King  would  sometimes 
break  off  in  the  middle  of  his  vows  of  love  and 
devotion  to  chide  her  in  the  old  peevish  fashion. 
Her  pain  made  her  very  restless,  and  she  complained 
that  she  could  not  sleep.  "  How  the  devil  should 
you  sleep,"  burst  forth  the  King,  "  when  you  will 
never  lie  still  a  moment  ? "  or  again,  when  the 
Queen  at  his  bidding  lay  perfectly  still,  the  King 
would  rail  at  her  for  looking  straight  before  her, 
"  like  a  calf  waiting  for  its  throat  to  be  cut ".  But 
Caroline  knew  better  than  to  blame  him  for  these 
rough  words,  which  were  more  welcome  to  her 
than  sweetest  music.  Her  wifely  obedience  never 
failed,  even  at  the  last.  The  doctors  said  that  her 
strength  must  be  kept  up,  so  the  King  was  always 
forcing  down  her  throat  all  sorts  of  food  and  drink. 
The  poor  Queen  would  swallow  whatever  he  wished, 
and  when  he  thanked  her,  she  would  say :  "It  is 
the  last  service  I  can  do  you  ".  But  her  stomach 
was  not  so  complaisant,  and  she  could  only  retain 
the  food  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  she  would  bravely 
try  again.  For  her  own  sake  she  wished  not  to 
live ;  for  his  she  would  fain  have  done  so. 

So  the  days  wore  on,  the  Queen  almost  apolo- 


gising  for  being  so  long  in  dying.  Thursday, 
Friday  and  Saturday  passed  without  change,  but  on 
Sunday  (November  2Oth,  *&3f),  tne  eleventh  day 
of  her  illness,  she  grew  weaker  every  hour.  About 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  end  came  quietly  and 
suddenly.  Her  last  word  was  Pray.  The  King 
was  with  her  when  she  passed  away,  and  in  an  agony 
of  grief  he  kissed  the  face  and  hands  of  the  dead 



QUEEN  CAROLINE'S  funeral  took  place  on  the  evening 
of  Saturday,  December  I7th  (1737),  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  It  was  her  special  request  that  her  obse- 
quies should  be  as  quiet  and  simple  as  possible, 
and  the  King  respected  her  wish,  though  he  com- 
manded a  general  mourning,  and  arranged  every 
detail  of  the  ceremonial.  During  the  month  that 
elapsed  between  the  Queen's  death  and  her  funeral, 
the  body,  encased  in  a  lead  coffin  and  an  outer 
one  of  English  oak,  rested  in  the  chamber  wherein 
she  died,  which  was  transformed  into  a  chapelle 
ardente  for  the  time  being.  The  walls  were  hung 
with  purple  and  black,  and  tall  tapers  burned  night 
and  day  around  the  bier.  The  doors  were  guarded 
by  gentlemen  pensioners,  with  their  axes  reversed, 
and  the  King  allowed  no  one  to  enter  the  room 
except  himself  and  those  who  watched  by  the 

The  night  before  the  funeral  a  brief  service  was 
held  in  the  death  chamber  by  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  which  the  King,  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land, and  the  Princesses  Amelia,  Caroline,  Mary, 
and  Louisa  attended.  This  was  the  King's  farewell 


of  all  that  was  mortal  of  his  Queen,  for  he  was  too- 
ill,  and  too  much  overcome  by  grief  to  attend  her 
funeral.  The  service  over,  the  coffin  was  privately 
conveyed  by  torchlight  from  St.  James's  Palace  to- 
the  Princes'  Chamber  adjoining  the  House  of  Lords. 
Here  the  late  Queen's  pages  watched  all  night,  and 
were  joined  in  the  morning  by  her  Majesty's  maids 
of  honour.  The  body  lay  in  state  all  that  day, 
guarded  by  twenty  gentlemen  pensioners. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  funeral  proces- 
sion started  from  the  Princes'  Chamber,  and  passed 
through  Old  Palace  Yard  to  the  great  north  door 
of  Westminster  Abbey,  by  means  of  a  covered  way 
lined  throughout  with  black.  Though  the  funeral 
was  officially  described  as  private,  the  procession 
was  a  long  one,  and  included  the  Ministers,  the  court 
officials,  the  physicians  who  attended  the  Queen  in 
her  last  illness,  all  those  who  held  places  in  her  house- 
hold, and  many  peers.  Sir  Robert  Walpole  followed 
his  royal  mistress  to  her  last  resting-place.  The 
Queen's  Chamberlain  carried  her  crown  on  a  black 
velvet  cushion,  and  walked  immediately  before  the 
coffin,  which  was  borne  by  ten  yeomen  of  the  guard, 
and  covered  "  with  a  large  pall  of  black  velvet,  lined 
with  black  silk,  with  a  fine  holland  sheet,  adorned 
with  ten  large  escutcheons  painted  on  satin,  under  a 
canopy  of  black  velvet  ".*  Six  dukes  acted  as  pall 
bearers,  and  ten  members  of  the  Privy  Council  bore 
the  canopy  ;  in  an  equal  line  on  either  side  marched 
the  gentlemen  pensioners  with  their  arms  reversed. 

1  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  ijth  December,  1737. 


Behind  the  coffin  walked  the  Princess  Amelia  as 
chief  mourner.  She  was  supported  by  the  Duke  of 
Grafton  and  the  Duke  of  Dorset,  and  her  train  was 
born  by  the  Duchess  of  St.  Albans  and  the  Duchess 
of  Montagu.  The  Princess  Amelia  was  followed  by 
a  long  train  of  ladies,  including  nearly  all  the 
duchesses  and  a  large  number  of  other  peeresses, 
the  late  Queen's  ladies  of  the  bedchamber,  maids 
of  honour,  and  bedchamber  women.  The  chief 
mourner  and  all  the  ladies  wore  long  veils  of  black 
crape.  The  Dean  and  Canons  of  Westminster, 
wearing  their  copes,  and  the  choir,  augmented  by 
the  choir  boys  of  the  Chapel  Royal  in  their  habits  of 
scarlet  and  gold,  bearing  wax  tapers  in  their  hands, 
met  the  coffin  at  the  north  door  of  the  Abbey,  and 
the  .procession  wended  its  way  through  the  north  and 
south  aisles  to  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel,  the  choir 
chanting  the  while  the  psalm  Domine  refugium. 
The  coffin  was  rested  by  the  side  of  the  open  grave, 
hard  by  the  tomb  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  and  the 
burial  service  was  proceeded  with  up  to  the  committal 
prayers.  The  Garter  King  of  Arms  then  stepped 
forward  and  proclaimed  the  late  Queen's  style  and 
titles  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  Thus  it  hath  pleased  Almighty  God  to  take  out 
of  the  transitory  life  to  His  Divine  mercy  the  late 
most  high,  most  mighty,  and  most  excellent  princess, 
Caroline,  by  the  Grace  of  God  Queen-Consort  of  the 
most  high,  most  mighty,  and  most  excellent  monarch 
George  the  Second,  by  the  Grace  of  God  King  of 
Great  Britain,  France,  and  Ireland,  Defender  of  the 


Faith,  whom  God  bless  and  preserve  with  long  life, 
health  and  honour,  and  all  worldly  happiness." 

Then  the  choir  sang  the  beautiful  anthem  which 
Handel  had  composed  especially  for  the  occasion  :— 

"  The  ways  of  Zion  do  mourn,  and  she  is  in 
bitterness :  all  her  people  sigh  and  hang  down  their 
heads  to  the  ground.  How  are  the  mighty  fallen ! 
she  that  was  great  among  the  nations  and  princess  of 
the  provinces.  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  I  When 
the  ear  heard  her,  then  it  blessed  her :  and  when  the 
eye  saw  her,  it  gave  witness  of  her.  How  are  the 
mighty  fallen !  she  that  was  great  among  the  nations 
and  princess  of  the  provinces.  She  delivered  the  poor 
that  cried :  the  fatherless  and  him  that  had  no  helper. 
Kindness,  meekness,  and  comfort  were  in  her  tongue. 
If  there  was  any  virtue,  and  if  there  was  any  praise, 
she  thought  on  those  things.  Her  body  is  buried  in 
peace,  but  her  name  liveth  for  evermore."  * 

When  the  last  notes  of  the  anthem  had  died  away, 
the  procession  returned  to  the  north  door  of  the 
Abbey  in  the  same  order  as  it  had  come.  The  coffin 
under  its  canopy,  with  tall  tapers  burning  on  either 
side,  was  left  in  the  Chapel.  Later  a  short  service 
was  held  privately,  when  it  was  lowered  to  the  vault 
and  placed  in  the  large  stone  sarcophagus  prepared 
for  it. 

The  King  remained  inconsolable  for  many 
months.  He  saw  no  one  at  first  but  his  daughters, 
and  when  he  was  compelled  to  see  Wai  pole,  or 

1  This  same  anthem  was  sung  at  the  memorial  service  in  West- 
minster Abbey  for  Queen  Victoria. 



some  other  Minister,  on  important  business,  he  could 
talk  of  nothing  but  his  loss  and  the  great  qualities 
of  the  late  Queen.  Many  thought  that  he  would 
not  long  survive  her ;  he  seemed  completely  broken 
down.  The  genuineness  of  his  sorrow  showed  itself 
in  various  ways.  By  her  will  the  Queen  had  left 
everything  to  him,  but  it  transpired  that  she  had  little 
to  leave  except  her  house  at  Richmond,  her  jewels, 
and  the  obligations  she  had  incurred  by  her  charities. 
When  her  heart  was  touched  by  cases  of  poverty, 
sickness  or  sorrow,  she  would  not  only  relieve  im- 
mediate necessities,  but  often  grant  pensions  for  life. 
These  pensions  it  was  found  amounted  to  nearly 
;£  1 3,000  a  year.  The  King  took  the  full  burden  on 
his  own  shoulders.  "  I  will  have  no  one  the  poorer 
for  her  death  but  myself,"  he  said.  He  also  paid 
the  salaries  of  every  member  of  her  household  until 
he  could  otherwise  provide  for  them. 

One  morning,  soon  after  the  Queen's  death,  he 
woke  early  and  sent  for  Baron  Borgman,  one  of  his 
Hanoverian  suite.  When  he  came  the  King  said, 
"  I  hear  you  have  a  picture  of  the  Queen,  which  she 
gave  you,  and  that  it  is  a  better  likeness  than  any 
in  my  possession.  Bring  it  to  me  here."  Borgman 
brought  it  to  the  King,  who  said  it  was  very  like 
her  Majesty,  and  burst  into  tears.  "Put  it,"  he 
said  presently,  "upon  that  chair  at  the  foot  of  my 
bed,  and  leave  me  until  I  ring  the  bell."  Two  hours 
passed  before  he  rang,  and  then  he  was  quite  calm. 
"Take  the  picture  away,"  he  said  to  its  owner,  "  I 
never  yet  saw  a  woman  worthy  to  buckle  her  shoe." 


Some  little  time  later,  he  was  playing  cards  one 
evening  with  his  daughters.  Some  queens  were 
dealt  to  him,  and  no  sooner  did  he  pick  up  the 
cards  and  perceive  them  than  he  burst  into  tears, 
and  was  unable  to  go  on  with  the  game.  Princess 
Amelia  guarded  against  a  repetition  of  the  scene  the 
following  night  by  privately  ordering  all  the  queens 
to  be  taken  out  of  the  pack. 

The  King  was  very  morbid  in  his  grief,  and 
much  given  to  dwelling  upon  the  material  aspect  of 
death.  He  was  very  superstitious  and  a  firm  believer 
in  ghouls  and  vampires.  Lord  Went  worth  gives  an 
illustration  of  this  in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  his  father, 
Lord  Strafford,  shortly  after  the  Queen's  funeral. 
"  Saturday  night,  between  one  and  two  o'clock, 
the  King  waked  out  of  a  dream  very  uneasy,  and 
ordered  the  vault,  where  the  Queen  is,  to  be  broken 
open  immediately,  and  have  the  coffin  also  opened  ; 
and  went  in  a  hackney  chair  through  the  Horse 
Guards  to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  back  again  to 
bed.  I  think  it  is  the  strangest  thing  that  could  be." 
In  a  subsequent  letter  he  refers  to  it  again  :  "The 
story  about  the  King  was  true,  for  Mr.  Wallop 
heard  of  one  who  saw  him  go  through  the  Horse 
Guards  on  Saturday  night  with  ten  footmen  before 
the  chair.  They  went  afterwards  to  Westminster 

Thirty-three  years  later  George  the  Second  was 
buried  by  his  Queen's  side,  and  as  a  last  proof  of 
his  devotion  he  left  orders  that  one  side  of  her  coffin 
should  be  removed,  and  one  side  of  his  taken  away, 


so  that  their  bones  should  mingle,  and  in  death  be 
not  divided.1 

Caroline  was  widely  mourned  by  all  classes  of 
her  husband's  subjects.  Even  those  disaffected 
to  the  House  of  Hanover  admitted  the  high 
qualities  of  the  Queen,  and  the  Jacobites  tempered 
their  judgment,  when  they  remembered  that  she  had 
always  been  on  the  side  of  mercy.  Only  from  the 
Prince  of  Wales's  household  and  from  those  who 
supported  him  came  any  discordant  note,  and  it 
must  be  admitted  that  some  of  these  were  very 
discordant  indeed.  In  the  eighteenth  century  per- 
sonal and  political  hatreds  were  carried  beyond  the 
grave,  and  some  of  the  epigrams  and  mock  epitaphs 
composed  by  the  Queen's  enemies  after  her  death 
form  anything  but  pleasant  reading.  The  fact  that 
she  did  not  see  the  Prince  of  Wales  during  her  last 
illness  was  seized  upon  as  a  pretext  for  attacking  her 

And  unforgiving,  unforgiven  dies  ! 

cried  Chesterfield  with  bitter  sarcasm,  while  Pope 
with  more  subtle  irony  wrote : — 

1The  large  stone  sarcophagus  which  contains  the  remains  of 
George  the  Second  and  Queen  Caroline  stands  in  the  middle  of  a 
vault  below  Henry  the  Seventh's  chapel  in  Westminster  Abbey.  This 
vault  was  used  only  for  the  family  of  George  the  Second.  But  many 
years  after  it  was  opened  to  admit  the  coffin  of  a  child  of  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland.  In  1837,  when  the  duke  became  King  of  Hanover, 
he  decided  to  remove  this  coffin  to  Hanover,  and  the  vault  was 
again  opened.  The  two  sides  that  were  withdrawn  from  George 
the  Second's  and  Queen  Caroline's  coffin  respectively,  were  then 
seen,  standing  against  the  wall  at  the  back  of  their  sarcophagus. 


Hang  the  sad  verse  on  Carolina's  urn, 
And  hail  her  passage  to  the  realms  of  rest. 
All  parts  perform'd,  and  all  her  children  blest ! 

But  these  outbursts  were  overwhelmed  in  the  spon- 
taneous tribute  of  affection  and  respect  paid  to  the 
dead  Queen  on  all  sides.  Her  loss  was  felt  to  be 
a  national  calamity.  "  The  Lord  hath  taken  away 
His  anointed  with  a  stroke,"  cried  a  preacher,  "  the 
breath  of  our  nostrils  is  taken  away.  The  great 
princess  is  no  more  under  whose  shadow  we  said 
we  should  be  safe,  and  promised  ourselves  lasting 
peace — she,  whom  future  generations  will  know  as 
Caroline  the  Illustrious."1  And  indeed  the  Queen's 
pre-eminent  qualities  fit  her  for  no  lesser  epithet. 
Caroline's  character  was  formed  on  bold  and 
generous  lines,  and  her  defects  only  served  to  bring 
into  stronger  relief  the  purity  of  her  life,  the  loftiness 
of  her  motives  and  the  excellence  of  her  wisdom. 
She  was  a  good  hater  but  a  true  friend,  patient 
under  suffering,  strong  in  adversity,  fond  of  power, 
yet  using  it  always  for  the  good  of  others.  In  the 
words  which  Frederick  the  Great  applied  to  her 
early  mentor  the  Queen  of  Prussia,  "  She  had  a 
great  soul". 

1  Sermon  preached  on  the  death  of  Queen  Caroline  by  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Crowe,  chaplain  in  ordinary  to  his  Majesty,  and  Rector  of  St. 
Botolph's,  Bishopsgate. 

THE    END. 




The  despatches  of  George  Louis,  Elector  of  Hanover,  to  Privy 

Councillor  von  Eltz,  and  the  replies  thereto,  1705.    Preserved 

in  the  Royal  Archives,  Hanover. 
The  despatches  of  Poley,  sometime  English  Envoy  at  the  Court 

of  Hanover,  1705.     State  Paper  Office,  London. 
The  despatches  of  Howe  (who  succeeded  Poley  as  English  Envoy 

at  Hanover),  1706-7.     State  Paper  Office,  London. 
The  despatches  of  D'Alais  (who  succeeded  Howe  as  English 

Envoy  at  Hanover),   1714.     State  Paper  Office. 
Bromley's  despatches  to  Harley,  Envoy-Extraordinary  to  the  Court 

of  Hanover,  and  Harley's  replies  thereto,  1714.    State  Paper 

Office,  London. 
The   memorial   of  the   Electress- Dowager  and  the   Elector  of 

Hanover  to   Queen  Anne,  and  the   Queen's   reply  to  the 

memorial,  1714.     State  Paper  Office,  London. 
The  despatches  of  Lord  Clarendon,  Envoy-Extraordinary  to  the 

Court  of  Hanover,  1714. 
Sundry  documents,  preserved  in  the  Archives  of  the  Castle  of 

Ansbach,  relating  to  the  Margraves  and  the  castle,  which 

need  not  be  specified. 
Letters  from  the  Hon.  Peter  Wentworth  to  his   brother  Lord 

Strafford,  1711-1737.      MSS.  Department,  British  Museum. 

(A  few  of  these  were  published  in  1883.) 
Notes  of  a  conversation  with  Queen  Caroline  by  Lady  Suffolk, 

1734.     MSS.  Department,  British  Museum. 
A  Memorandum  of  the  Princesses'  dresses,  etc.    MSS.  Depart- 
ment, British  Museum. 

VOL.  II.  24 



La  Correspondance  de  Leibniz  avec  I ' Electrice  Sophie  de  Bruns- 
wick-Luneburg.  Vol.  III. 

Geschichte  der  Deutschen  Hofe,  Vehse.     Vol.  XVIII. 

Geschichte  von  Sachsen,  Bottiger  Flathe.     Vol.  II. 

Biographische  Denkmaler  Varnhagen.     Vol.  IV. 

Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu's  Letters  and  Works.  Edited  by 
Lord  Wharnecliffe. 

The  Diary  of  Mary,  Countess  Cmvper,  Lady  of  the  Bed- 
chamber to  the  Princess  of  Wales,  1714-1720. 

Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs  of  the  Reign  of  George  the  Second.  Edited 
by  John  Wilson  Croker. 

Lord  Mahon's  History  of  England  from  the  Peace  of  Utrecht, 
Vols.  I.  and  II. 

Coxe's  Life  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  Vols.  I.  and  II. 

The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  Vol.  IX. 

Horace  Walpole's  Reminiscences  and  Works. 

The  History  of  Hampton  Court  Palace.  Orange  and  Guelph 
Times,  Vol.  III.,  by  Ernest  Law. 

Notes  on  the  Personal  Union  between  England  and  Hanover,  by 
Dr.  A.  W.  Ward. 

Greater  London,  by  Edward  Walford. 

The  Memoirs  of  Wilhelmina,  Margravine  of  Baireuth,  Translated 
by  H.R.H.  the  Princess  Christian. 

The  Lockhart  Memoirs. 

Colley  Gibber's  Apology  for  My  Life. 

The  Historical  Register,  1718. 

Par liamentary»  Hi  story,  Vols.  VIII.  and  IX. 

The  Criticks  :  Being  Papers  of  the  Times,  1718. 

The  Political  State  of  Great  Britain,  Vol.  VIII. 

Sundry  Reports  of  the  Historical  MSS.  Commission,  including 
Earl  de  la  Warr's  MSS.  preserved  at  Buckhurst,  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough's  MSS.  at  Blenheim,  and  the  Earl  of  Carlisle's 
MSS.  at  Castle  Howard. 

The  Wentworth  Papers,  1705-1739. 

The  Suffolk  Correspondence:  Letters  to  and  from  Henrietta, 
Countess  of  Suffolk. 

Hervey's  Letter  Books,  1651-1750. 

Kemble's  State  Papers  and  Correspondence. 


House  of  Commons'  Journal,  Vol.  XX. 

The  Etough  Papers. 

The  Sundon  Correspondence.  Memoirs  of  Viscountess  Sundon, 
by  Mrs.  Thomson. 

The  Earl  of  Bristol's  Letter  Book,  1651-1750. 

La  Correspondance  Secrete  du  Comte  de  Broglie. 

Les  Memoir es  de  Berwick,  Vol.  II. 

The  Transactions  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  in  Scotland,  Vol.  I. 

Macpherson's  Stuart  Papers,  Vol.  II. 

Dr.  King's  Anecdotes  of  My  Own  Times. 

The  Correspondence  of  Elizabeth  Charlotte,  Duchess  of  Orleans. 

An  Essay  Towards  the  Character  of  Queen  Caroline,  by  Dr. 
Alured  Clarke. 

Wright's  England  under  the  House  of  Hanover. 

Maby's  Life  of  Chesterfield. 

Jesse's  Memoirs. 

Our  Hanoverian  Kings,  by  B.  C.  Skottowe. 

Epitaphium  Reginae  Carolinae,  1737. 

A  Particular  Account  of  the  Solemnities  used  at  the  Coronation  of 
His  Sacred  Majesty  King  George  II. ,  and  his  Royal  Consort 
Queen  Caroline,  on  Wednesday,  \\th  October,  1727.  London, 

Ceremonial  Proceedings  at  the  Private  Interment  of  Queen  Caro- 
line, 1737. 

Dix  Annees  de  la  Cour  de  George  II.,  by  Vicomte  Frolois.  Paris, 

The  London  Gazette,  1714-1737  (official). 

Sundry  news-sheets  and  journals  1714-1737,  including:  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  The  Daily  Courant,  The  Leiden 
Gazette,  The  Freeholder,  The  Craftsman,  The  Daily  Post, 
The  Weekly  Journal,  The  Daily  Journal,  The  Flying  Post, 
Misf  s  Journal,  Brice' s  Weekly  Journal,  The  Stamford  Mercury, 
The  County  Journal,  The  Daily  Advertiser,  Fog's  Weekly 
Journal,  Reed's  Weekly  Journal,  The  General  Evening  Post, 
Hookers  Miscellany,  The  Old  Whig,  etc. 




ALBEMARLE,  Lady,  126. 

Amelia,  Princess,  94 ;   at  Bath,  97  ; 

and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  217  ; 

at  Caroline's  funeral,  362. 
Anne,   Princess   Royal   of   England, 

93  ;    and   the  Prince  of  Wales, 

217  ;    betrothal,  249  ;    marriage, 


Appendix,  369. 
Arbuthnot,  Dr.,  76. 
Argyll,  Duke  of,   in   opposition,   51, 

189 ;  and  the  Church,  149  ;  and 

Caroline,  311. 
Atterbury,   Prince  James's  agent  in 

Paris,  20  ;  death,  143. 
Augusta,    Princess    of    Saxe-Gotha, 

betrothal,  284 ;  marriage,  289. 

BALTIMORE,  Lord,  214. 

Berkeley,  Dr.,  179. 

Berkeley,  George,  268. 

Berkeley,  Lord,  resignation,  17. 

Berwick,  Duke  of,  144. 

Bolingbroke,     Viscount,     and      the 

Patriots,  48  ;   and  the  Prince  of 

Wales,  205,  208  ;  leaves  England, 

Bolton,  Duke  of,  170 ;  in  opposition, 

189  ;  dismissed,  202. 
Borgman,  Baron,  365. 
Bourguait,  English   Envoy  at  Berlin, 


Brett,  Dr.,  245. 
Bristol,  Lady,  92. 
Brunswick,  Duchess  of,  335. 
Buckingham,  Duchess  of,  144. 
Burlington,  Lord,  202. 
Butler,  Dr.,  179,  229. 

CAROLINE,  Queen  of  England,  3  ; 
Civil  List,  12 ;  and  Schulem- 
burg,  26  ;  coronation,  30  ;  power 
of,  40 ;  and  the  opposition,  50 ; 

and  Windsor,  56,  117;  house- 
hold, 70 ;  toilet,  75  ;  Regent  of 
England,  112,  184,  273,  297; 
and  the  people,  147  ;  charities, 
150 ;  and  vaccination,  154 ;  and 
literature,  156  ;  and  prison  re- 
form, 184  ;  and  the  Church,  223  ; 
and  Madame  de  Walmoden, 
314  ;  illness,  344  ;  death,  360  ; 
funeral,  361. 

Caroline,  Princess,  101. 

Carteret,  Lord,  in  opposition,  48,  330. 

Cavendish,  Lord  James,  126. 

Charles  Edward,  Prince.,  143. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  in  opposition,  48, 
190  ;  Lord  Steward  of  the 
Household,  81  ;  dismissed,  202. 

Chevenix,  Rev.  Charles,  235. 

Clarke,  Dr.  Alured,  181. 

Clarke,  Dr.  Samuel,  228. 

Clayton,  Dr.,  232. 

Clayton,  Mrs.,  71 ;  and  the  Church, 
231  ;  becomes  Lady  Sundon,  236. 

Clementina,  consort  of  Prince  James 
Stuart,  1 8. 

Clinton,  Lord,  in  opposition,  190 ; 
dismissed,  202. 

Cobham,  Lord,  202. 

Compton,  Sir  Spencer,  Prime  Mini- 
ster, 6  ;  created  Earl  of  Wilming- 
ton, 16. 

Croft,  Sir  Archer,  143. 

Crowe,  Dr.,  368. 

Cumberland,  Duke  of,  102. 

D'ELITZ,  Madame,  302. 

De  Fleury,  Cardinal,  13. 

Delaware,  Lord,  285. 

Deloraine,   Lady,   280  ;  and  George 

II.,  33i- 

De  Roussie,  Lady  Charlotte,  68. 
Doddington,  George  Budd,  206. 
Dorset,  Duchess  of,  70. 



Dorset,  Duke  of,  362. 
Duck,  Stephen,  180. 
Duncombe,  William,  180. 
Dyves,  Dorothy,  235. 

FENTON,  Miss,  170. 

Finch,  Lord,  103. 

Fleury,  Cardinal,  145. 

Frederick,  Crown  Prince  of  Denmark, 

Frederick,  Hereditary  Prince  of 
Hesse- Cassel,  104. 

Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales,  86 ;  in 
England,  go  ;  in  opposition,  203  ; 
and  Bolingbroke,  205  ;  and  Lady 
Diana  Spencer,  209  ;  escapades, 
210 ;  and  Miss  Vane,  212  ;  and 
his  sisters,  217  ;  betrothal,  284  ; 
marriage,  289  ;  and  the  Patriots, 
326  ;  at  Norfolk  House,  342  ;  and 
the  Queen,  350. 

GAY,  168. 

George  Augustus  (George  II.),  acces- 
sion, 3  ;  Civil  List,  15  ;  and 
George  I.'s  will,  23  ;  coronation, 
30;  visit  to  Hanover,  112,  184, 
273>  297  I  and  the  King  of 
Prussia,  131  ;  and  the  Church, 
223 ;  illness,  325. 

George  Louis  (George  I.),  will,  23  ; 
funeral,  29. 

Gibraltar,  115. 

Gibson,  Dr.,  224. 

Grafton,  Duke  of,  63  ;  and  Princess 
Amelia,  95  ;  Lord  Chamberlain, 
170  ;  at  Caroline's  funeral,  362. 

Grantham,  Lord,  119. 

HAMILTON,  Lady  Archibald,  213  ;  and 
the  Princess  of  Wales,  293. 

Harrington,  Lord,  Secretary  of  State, 
141  ;  and  Walpole,  274. 

Harwicke,  Lord,  342. 

Hay,  created  Earl  of  Inverness  by 
Prince  James,  18. 

Hervey,  Lord,  Vice-Chamberlain  to 
Caroline,  64  ;  duel  with  Pulteney, 
67  ;  and  Pope,  173  ;  and  the  royal 
family,  220. 

Hoadley,  Bishop,  239. 

Hobart,  Sir  Henry,  raised  to  peerage, 


Hotham,  Special  Envoy  at  Berlin, 

Howard,  Mrs.,  73  ;  and  Swift,  164  ; 
becomes  Lady  Suffolk,  219 ; 
Mistress  of  the  Robes,  219;  re- 
signation, 257  ;  second  marriage, 
268  ;  death,  268. 

ISLA,  Lord,  191. 

JAMES  STUART,  Prince,  18. 

KENDAL,  Duchess  of.  (See  Schulem- 

LAMOTTE,  87. 

Lifford,  Lord,  68. 

Lockhart,  Prince   James's  agent  for 

Scotland,  20. 
Lome,  Colonel,  89. 
Louisa,  Princess,  105. 
Lumley,  Mr.,  126. 
Lytelton,  326. 

MADDOX,  Dr.,  79. 

Malpas,  Lord,  dismissed,  n;  re- 
instated, 1 8. 

Manners,  Lady  Fanny,  126. 

Mar,  Earl  of,  death,  142. 

Marchmont,  Earl  of,  in  opposition, 
190 ;  dismissed,  202. 

Marlborough,  Duchess  of,  93,  144 ; 
and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  209 ; 
and  Mrs.  Clayton,  236. 

Mary,  Princess,  104. 

Masham,  Lady,  76. 

Meadows,  Miss,  72. 

Middleton,  Lady,  126. 

Montagu,  Lady  Mary  Wortley,  37 ; 
and  vaccination,  154 ;  and  Pope, 
174 ;  and  Mrs.  Clayton,  236 ;  at 
Caroline's  funeral,  362. 

Montrose,  Duchess  of,  38. 

Montrose,  Duke  of,  in  opposition, 
189 ;  dismissed,  202. 

Murray,  created  Earl  of  Dunbar  by 
Prince  James,  18. 

NASH,  "  King,"  98. 

Newcastle,   Duke   of,    and   Princess 

Amelia,  95  ;  in  office,  141. 
Norfolk,  Duchess  of,  348. 
North,  Lord,  350. 

ONSLOW,  Chancellor,  113. 

Orange,    Prince    of,   betrothal,    24g ; 

marriage,  252. 
Orkney,  Earl  of,  118. 
Orkney,  Lady,  37. 
Orrery,    Prince    James's    agent    in 

London,  20. 

PELHAM,  Henry,  126. 

Pelham,  Lady  Catherine,  126. 

Pembroke,  Lord,  236. 

Pitt,  326. 

Pomfret,  Countess  of,  69. 



Pomfret,  Lord,  128 ;  and  Mrs.  Clay- 
ton, 236. 

Pope,  173. 

Porteous,  Captain,  308. 

Portland,  Lady,  38. 

Potter,  Dr.,  356. 

Poyntz,  116. 

Pulteney,  head  of  opposition,  48 ; 
duel  with  Hervey,  67  ;  and  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  327. 

QUEENSBERRY,  Duchess  of,  169. 

RANBY,  349. 
Raymond,  Lord,  150. 
Robertson,  307. 
Robinson,  227. 

ST.  ALBANS,  Duchess  of,  362. 

St.  John,  Lady,  38. 

Sastot,  87. 

Savage,  180. 

Scarborough,  Lord,  44,  196. 

Schulemburg,  and  George   I.'s  will, 

25  ;  and  Caroline,  26  ;  death,  28. 
Schutz,  69. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  and  the  Porteous 

Riots,  312. 
Scrivelsby,   Lord  of  the  Manor   of, 

King's  Champion,  35. 
Seeker,  Bishop,  229. 
Selwyn',  Colonel,  140. 
Seville,  Treaty  of,  115. 
Shippen, 17. 
Skerrett,  Maria,  137. 
Sloane,  Sir  Hans,  154. 
Somerville,  180. 
Sophie  Dorothea,  Queen  of  Prussia, 


Spencer,  Lady  Diana,  209. 
Spense,  Betty,  126. 
Stair,   Earl  of,   in   opposition,   190  ; 

dismissed,  202. 
Stanhope,  English  Plenipotentiary  at 

Madrid,  115. 
Steele,  Sir  Richard,  179. 
Strafford,  Lady,  103. 
Stratford,  Lord,  20. 

Suffolk,  Lady.     See  Mrs.  Howard. 
Sundon,  Lady.     See  Mrs.  Clayton. 
Swift,  Dean,  162. 
Sylvine,  Major,  124. 

TALBOT,  Dr.,  241. 

Tankerville,  Lady,  280. 

Tankerville,  Lord,  181. 

Titchburne,  Mrs.,  100,  336. 

Townshend,  Lord,  113  ;  and  Wai- 
pole,  136  ;  resignation,  140  ;  and 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  208. 

Trevor,  Lady,  37. 

VANE,  Miss,  212. 
Voltaire,  157. 

WAKE,  Dr.,  23. 

Walmoden,  Madame  de,  274,  300. 

Walpole,  Lady,  15. 

Walpole,  Sir  Robert,  dismissed,  5 ; 
reinstated,  15  ;  and  Caroline,  41 ; 
and  Townshend,  136  ;  at  Hough- 
ton,  138  ;  and  literature,  160  ; 
and  the  Excise  Scheme,  187 ; 
and  the  Church,  223  ;  and 
Madame  de  Walmoden,  314  ;  and 
Caroline's  illness,  354. 

Walsingham,  Lady,  25. 

Wentworth,  Lord,  366. 

Wentworth,  Peter,  108 ;  and  Caro- 
line, 121. 

Wesley,  John,  239. 

Wharton,  Duke  of,  142. 

Widdrington,  Lord,  100. 

Wigton,  Lady,  98. 

Wilhelmina,  Princess  of  Prussia,  86. 

William,  Duke  of  Cumberland,  102. 

Wilson,  307. 

Wolfenbuttel,  Duke  of,  and  George 
I.'s  will,  23  ;  subsidy  to,  48. 

Wyndham,  208. 

YARMOUTH,  Countess  of.  See  Wal- 

Yonge,  Sir  William,  dismissed,  u  ; 
reinstated,  18.